


The Spaces Between Us

by GoldenDaydreams



Series: United, We Stand [3]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: AU-season2, Alec Lightwood-centric, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Alec Lightwood, Big Brother Alec, Brotp, Canon-Typical Violence, Clary Fray & Alec Lightwood Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Dates, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Maryse Isn't That Bad, Parabatai, Parabatai Bond, Seelie Court, Vampire Simon, non-canon Seelie Court, secondary original characters, sibling goals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 10:58:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6851965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenDaydreams/pseuds/GoldenDaydreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec's day started off amazing with his first official date with Magnus. Of course, it all goes to Hell pretty damn fast. A shapeshifter takes Clary's form.  A Shadowhunter is injured, and another is killed. Alec is accused of the murder of a Downworlder. </p><p>And that's all before midnight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Later, when the day bled into the next, Alec would wonder how he went from having one of the best days of his life, to one of the worst. The morning spent with Clary and Isabelle playing ‘Dress-Up, Alec’ had been mildly enjoyable. After all the stress they’d been under since Jace had left, it was good to see them both smiling. Breakfast with Magnus would be on the highlight reel of his life. He’d never again be able to taste strawberry jam without associating it with the dashing warlock.

After leaving the breakfast nook, they took a walk through the large park a few blocks away. They found a secluded section, and hid themselves away with the leaves of the willow tree. Sitting side by side on a blanket Magnus had conjured, they enjoyed the cool shade. Magnus told him humorous anecdotes of magic gone slightly wrong; ‘I mean, really, could I be blamed for that man being turned into a warthog? No. Well… okay, a little, but he looked like one in the first place so… it wasn’t that drastic.’ In turn, Alec told stories about himself and his siblings when they were younger; ‘Mom wanted us to study runes… she just didn’t expect them to be done in crayon on the walls.’

Magnus popped the rest of the chocolate covered strawberry in his mouth, and Alec watched as the warlock licked melted chocolate from his thumb. “How decadent,” Magnus said, missing a bit of chocolate off his lip.

Alec felt strong, and sure with Magnus. Ever since the wedding incident, he tried to be a truer version of himself. He would never be as bold, nor as confident as Magnus, but he’d come a long way in a short amount of time. With the leaves of the tree hiding them from the outside view, he threw caution to the side, and leaned over to give in to the desire to kiss that chocolate from Magnus’s lips.

The warlock moaned, threaded his fingers through Alec’s hair, pulling the Shadowhunter closer. After so many years of repressing his feelings, kissing Magnus felt liberating. Alec’s fingers curled in the fabric of his date’s shirt, needing to keep him close. The kisses, slow and sweet, were sledgehammers striking the walls Alec had put up. 

Of course, the standard ringtone and vibration in his pocket broke it up. It also happened to be the end of ‘best day ever,’ and began the day of ‘this is awful.’

Alec pulled back, his head tucked down, suddenly terribly nervous. He glanced up under dark lashes. “Sorry,” he whispered.

Magnus appeared under a spell, eyes on Alec’s lips for a second too long before he appeared to snap out of it. “I know you have to answer that, it’s okay.”

While he pulled the phone from the pocket of his jeans, Alec dreaded answering it. More so when he saw the caller ID. Swallowing hard, he answered. “Hello, Mom.” He listened as she ordered him to return to the Institute. With haste. He sat up a little straighter, eyes darting over to Magnus, who in turn was watching Alec. It wasn’t the words, nor the order that drew Alec’s attention, there was something in his mother’s voice. “What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?” Instead of telling him, she repeated her order. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

Ending the call, Alec stood, and extended his hand out to Magnus, helping the warlock back to his feet. “I have to go.”

Magnus frowned. “I figured. Any clue as to why?”

“Something’s happened. Mom sounded upset. And this is the first she’s talked to me in a while, so…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I need to catch a cab.”

The warlock sighed, and shook his head. “During noon-hour traffic?” With a flair of gestures, a portal was created, and stood waiting. “Do be careful, Alexander.”

“I always am,” Alec promised. “My siblings are the reckless ones, remember? And thank you, for today.”

The smile Magus gave was soft and warm. “It was my utmost pleasure, and I thank you for the company. I do hope we’ll do this again soon.”

Alec smiled widely, and ducked his head trying not to look too enthused. “Yes. I’d… I’d like that.”

“You know, portals _are_ rather draining,” Magnus said.

“Right. Sorry, leaving.” He only made it one step before Magnus’s hand grabbed his bicep. “What?”

“I know you’re likely to be very busy with whatever Maryse called you about, but if you get the chance, a text might be nice. Just so I know you’re okay.”

The concern touched Alec. “I’ll try, might be a while.”

“Immortality teaches patience,” Magnus replied, and made shooing hands. “Now go forth and be a hero.”

Alec grinned, and walked through the portal backward so he would be able to look at Magnus until the last possible moment.

On the other side of the portal, Alec stood still for a second, willing his stomach back under control. He never much liked travelling by portal, even if it was the quickest way to travel. A few deep breaths and he looked around. The portal had been set up along a wall in a back corridor, close to Alec’s bedroom. Figuring his mother would be in her office, he headed that way.

He had to pass the main work stations of the institute, but there were only a handful of Shadowhunters there, and three of them were gearing up. He hurried along, jogging through the halls, stopping at the door and knocking respectively.

“Enter,” his mother’s voice replied.

Alec pushed open the door. His parents stood along with Isabelle, Clary, and Lydia. “Where did everyone go? What is going on?” He asked shocked, and confused. “I go out for one morning, and everything goes to hell? Why didn’t anyone call me earlier?”

Maryse held up a hand to stop the questions. “We didn’t call earlier, because we didn’t need to. Early this morning, a few demons were spotted. We responded by sending out more Shadowhunters to the surrounding area, to ensure they were all dead. Instead, we found more to the east. And another pocket to the south was then reported.” She shook her head. “We had it under control.”

“And now?” Alec asked.

“Sensors are picking up demonic activity all through the city,” Isabelle said. “The Clave has been contacted. The Northern Institute in Toronto will have more Shadowhunters here by nightfall.”

He understood. Until then, they’d fight. Probably after that, they’d still be fighting. “Why all the demonic activity?” Alec wondered out loud. “Why now?”

“Who knows,” Robert said. “But we need to handle it before it gets completely out of hand and mundanes start getting killed.”

Alec nodded. “I’ll get geared up.”

***

Alec, Isabelle, and Clary worked well as a team. Still, Alec felt out of sorts. His bow didn’t feel quite right in his hand. He worried about Clary, and kept back from the fight to better assess the situation, and put the arrows where they were needed. Isabelle’s whip did serious damage to the demon, and she followed it up with a stab of her seraph blade, dual wielding the weapons with profound grace. Clary had far less finesse, but clearly remembered a few of the lessons she’d been given. Alec let three arrows fly in quick succession ending the demon that would have rushed her from behind. Clary finally got the best of the demon she’d been fighting head on, and he could practically see her shoulders drop in relief. “Keep your weapons up,” Alec ordered, his voice booming in the abandoned warehouse. Clary’s arm shot back up, and she twirled around, looking for another enemy.

Instead there were none, and she looked over at Alec. They’d spent two hours fighting, first down by the waterfront, then in a park, now here. She puffed out a breath. “I need to be in better shape.”

Isabelle’s whip wrapped back around her wrist. “I’d kill for some water right about now.”

“There is a convenience store around the corner,” Alec said. “I’ll call Mom on the way.”

They all got rehydrated as Alec talked on the phone, getting the location of the next demons that needed executing. He hung up, and turned to his sister, and Clary. “We’ve got another mission.”

Clary’s frowned, trying to straighten out her shoulders. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

“Give me your arm,” Alec said, pulling his stele out. “You’re going to need a stamina rune.”

“I’m okay, really.”

“No you’re not,” Alec said gently. “Your reaction time kept getting slower in the last fight.”

“I can keep up with you and Izzy,” Clary argued.

“No, you can’t. And that’s okay,” Isabelle said, placing her hand on Clary’s shoulder. “You haven’t trained your entire life for this. Alec isn’t saying this to be mean. He’s saying it so you have the energy to keep yourself, and us, safe.”

Clary’s shoulders fell. “I read that the stamina rune doesn’t last more than a few hours, I should hold out longer. Who knows when this will be over?”

“It won’t matter if you’re dead,” Alec said. “If you get too tired, I’ll send you back to the institute.”

“But-“

“No buts,” Alec said firmly. “No Shadowhunter keeps fighting if they’re risking their team. Understood? That goes for all of us.”

Clary sighed, but nodded. She held out her left arm, and turned it over, giving him a long section of pale skin to work with.

“While you’re at it, she should have a deflect rune too,” Isabelle said, chugging down the rest of her water.

***

Three more fights, and night had descended upon Brooklyn. Poor lighting made fights more difficult, especially for Alec, who had more skill as a distance fighter. As they took on a group of shapeshifting demons, Alec switched out his bow for a seraph blade, cursing the blade for it’s glow which called to the demons in the darkness. So much for stealth.

He had already activated his own stamina rune, and the fresh wave of energy gave him the strength needed to go on the attack. He heard Clary cry out, and he forced himself to keep a clear head, knocking the demon back, and sending it back to Hell with his blade. He turned to see two Clary’s, neither with a blade in hand, both backing away from the other with mirrored horror.

“Alec!” The one cried out.

“Alec! Kill it,” The other Clary shouted.

“No!” Clary said, putting her hands up. “I’m Clary.”

“I’m Clary,” the other said.

Alec looked at them both, and turned to Isabelle, hoping she’d seen which one was real, but she was still battling her own demon. “Damn it.” He pulled out his bow, notched and arrow, and ended the demon Isabelle fought. He notched another and pointed it at the two women who wore the same face.

“Damn it,” Isabelle said, taking in the situation.

“Who were you engaged to at eight years old?” Alec asked.

The one Clary looked confused.

The other smiled. “Simon.”

Alec’s response was immediate, launching the arrow at the imposter. The demon burned, folding in on itself. He let out a breath of relief. “You okay?”

Clary laughed. “I can’t believe you remember me and Simon telling you about that.”

He shrugged, and was about to pull out his phone when Isabelle fell to one knee. “Izzy!” He was at her side in a second, one hand on her shoulder, the other on her ribs, trying to keep her from falling over. Horror hit him as the wet warmth of blood covered his hand on her ribs.

“I can’t believe that thing actually got a piece of me,” she said bitterly. “Iratze me, brother.”

He already had his stele in hand before she’d given him the order. Taking a deep breath he steadied his hand. Healing runes worked better the closer to the heart they were drawn, so he pushed the lapel of Isabelle’s buttoned shirt aside, and started drawing the Iratze rune.

Her breath hissed as she drew it in through her teeth, bearing down against the pain. Completed, it disappeared, but with his left hand still on the wound, he pressed and felt fresh blood roll over his fingers. “Lay down. It didn’t work, Iz.”

“Demonic metal?” Isabelle fell forward, and Alec caught his sister in his hands, dropping his stele in the process. “I don’t… I don’t feel so good.”

“You’re going to be okay,” he said, voice full of command. He threw his phone at Clary. “Call our mother. Tell her what’s happened.” He gently laid his sister down. The whimpering sound that escaped his sister’s lips made him bite down on his tongue, forcing himself to keep it together. “You’ll be just fine, Iz. I’ve got you.” The blood loss was currently the biggest issue. He drew the amissio rune, which held, and slowed the blood loss even as it jump started blood replacement. “We need to get her back to the Institute,” he said to Clary the moment she was off the phone. “Call Simon.”

Clary nodded, and although the vampire’s number wasn’t in his phone, she dialled it in with familiarity. “Simon,” he heard her say. “I’m going to text you an address. Come immediately. It’s Isabelle.”


	2. Chapter 2

Isabelle’s dead weight in his arms made him feel sick as he carried his sister through the park. Clary walked at his side, a seraph blade glowing bright, lighting the way. The blood seeping from Isabelle’s wound has slowed, but it’s soaked his shirt. He hasn’t felt this kind of fear since Jace went through the portal. He wished for his Parabatai to be at his side, the burden of guilt would lay between them, or better, Isabelle’s injury may have never happened.

Alec had spent so much time worrying about Clary, that he’d allowed his own sister to be wounded. He held her tighter, her head lolled temple hitting his collarbone. “Alec,” she whispered. “It hurts.”

His heart shattered, and he felt like he was dying. “I know, I know it hurts, Iz. I’m going to get you home,” he promised. “Mom’s already got the Silent Brother’s on the way. They’re going to heal you up. You’re going to feel so much better, okay?” He pressed a kiss to her forehead as they walked through the trees, and came out to the street. He looked up and down the dark stretch of pavement. “Where the hell is he?”

“I’m sure he’s breaking every speed limit-“ Clary silenced as she saw the light coming, and then a van coming up on two wheels as it took the corner. “Jesus Christ! Simon!” she scolded even though he couldn’t hear. The brakes squealed and the van rocked as it came to a stop in front of them. She pulled open the van doors. “The Institute. Drive fast. Keep all four wheels on the ground.”

Alec moved as fast as possible with his sister in his arms. He laid her down, and looked over at Simon as Clary slammed the door shut. The vampire swallowed hard. “That’s… that’s a lot of blood.”

His hand moved automatically to his seraph blade which lit up. “Drive, Vamp!”

It took a moment for Simon to regain composure, but he turned back in his seat, and Alec almost fell over as the gas petal hit the floor.

***

As soon as Alec came through the doors of the Institute, with his unconscious sister in arms, he saw their mother. “Silent Brothers?”

“Infirmary,” Maryse replied, falling into step beside him. Clary and Simon hanging back.  “What happened?”

“Demonic weapon. Iratze didn’t work,” he said simply. Looking down at his sister, his heart missed a beat. He should have protected her. “I slowed the blood loss.”

“Amissio rune,” Maryse said with a nod.

She moved quicker, to open the doors of the infirmary for Alec who went through the door sideways careful with Isabelle’s head and legs. Two Silent Brothers stood waiting by one of the beds, and he hurried to the cot. He set her down with care, and stepped back. He tried to ignore the way his shirt clung to him, wet with blood.

 ** _Leave us._** The Silent Brother’s order rang through Alec’s mind. He took one last look at his sister, gripped her hand tight, released, and walked out.

His mother stopped him before he could storm down the hall. “Are you okay?” Maryse asked, staring at his torso. He glanced down, saw the blood drying on his hands and arms, his shirt darker in the spot soaked with it. Blood spatter on his jeans.

He nodded. “I need to get changed. Where do you need me and Clary next?”

Maryse frowned. “Clarissa looks exhausted. Frankly, so do you.”

“Mom-“

“Don’t. Re-enforcements arrived a few hours ago. I’m going to call some of our hunters back in for some rest. You’ll do no one good if you’re dead on your feet.”

He was fine. He could keep going. Unlike the sister he’d failed to keep safe. His jaw clenched. “I didn’t protect Izzy.”

His mother’s hands were warm, and strong as they squeezed his shoulders until he looked at her. “I’m sure you did everything you could. Isabelle is strong. She’s going to be fine.”

He shook his head, tried to step back, but his mother’s grip only tightened. “I was watching Clary. Jace would have wanted me to watch her,” he tried to explain as the guilt swamped him. “Isabelle is so strong, she’s had so much training, I thought she’d be okay. Clary’s a novice. I- I- I-“

“Shhh.” And for the first time in a long time, his mother’s arms wrapped around him, and held him tight.

“I should have had Izzy’s back. I failed her. I failed you.”

“You did no such thing. You made the right call, protecting Clary. And even when Isabelle was hurt, you handled that too. And when the Iratze didn’t work, you still knew what to do. You handled the situation, Alec. No one could have done more. You can’t blame yourself. This is a dangerous line of work, we all accept the risk.”

The forgiveness of his mother did wonders, as did the small soothing back and forth motion of her thumb on the back of his neck. She pulled back and studied his face, frowning as she studied the bruise he could feel on his jaw.

Alarms from the command center could be heard down the hall. With one look at each other, both Maryse and Alec were running down the hall.

Fellow Shadowhunter Penelope Silverhawk stood at the computer bay, silencing the alarm as Maryse entered. “We’ve got a major problem. One of the Northerners called in, they found circle members.”

Clary perked up from the chair she’d nearly fallen asleep in. “What?”

“He hasn’t called back in. I told him to keep back.” Penelope chewed on her bottom lip worriedly. “I fear they may have found him.”

“Did he say how many there were?” Alec asked.

“He counted six,” Penelope replied. “But there very well could have been more.” She risked a glance at Maryse. “How is Isabelle?”

“The Silent Brothers are with her,” Maryse replied and the room felt heavy. They all knew that while the Silent Brothers were powerful, they couldn’t fix everything.

Alec pulled his bow from his shoulder. “Where were the Circle members spotted?”

Penelope pulled up a map of port not too far from the Institute. Alec made note of the address. He glanced at his mother. “I need to go.” Valentine controlled the Circle members, and he knew Jace is with Valentine. He needed to capture at least one, it might be the only shot he had at finding his Parabatai.

Maryse pulled herself to full height, and Alec felt her critical eyes on him. Finally, she nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

“Me too,” Clary said standing, and wavering just slightly in her stance.

“No. You get some rest,” Maryse said. She glanced at the vampire for the first time. “What is he doing here?”

“He helped us get Isabelle back,” Alec said. “We probably wouldn’t have made it in time if he hadn’t come as fast as he did.”

Maryse appeared torn, but sincere when she turned to Simon. “Thank you.”

“Do you mind… if I stay here?” Simon asked. “I just… I want to know that Izzy’s alright. I won’t make any trouble. I promise.”

“Fine,” Maryse agreed, although did not sound happy with the decision. “Stay with the Fairchild girl, and do not cause trouble. Penelope, Max was ordered to stay in his room. I put a locking rune on the door, since he’s as likely to listen as not.” Knowing the door would only be able to be opened by her own stele, she set it down at Penelope’s work station. “Watch him.”

Penelope’s blue eyes widened, realizing what had gone unspoken, but she nodded. “Understood.”  

The front doors opened, and Lydia came in, weapons strapped to her waist and back. “Hellhounds are taken care of,” she announced proudly, and then took in the somber attitude of the room. “What happened?”

“Izzy’s in the infirmary,” Alec said. “And we have a sighting of Circle members at the port, along with a Shadowhunter who isn’t answering his phone anymore.”

“Well then,” Lydia grabbed her seraph daggers, and twirled them expertly around. “Let’s go pay a visit.”

***

Really, they should have been going in with a bigger force. Unfortunately, with all that was happening in the city, they just couldn’t round up the extra manpower. Instead, it was just Maryse; armed with her naginata, Lydia dual wielding seraph daggers, and Alec with not only his bow, but his featherstaff strapped and glamoured on his back. Now that they were on sight, he ran his stele over the stamina rune for the second time that night. The energy brought everything back into focus, but he knew it wouldn’t last as long, and he’d need a longer rest period when all was said and done.

They moved with purpose, in a tight knit formation. Maryse went first, and focused on the front and left side. Lydia stayed closer to Alec, their shoulders touching as they moved as one, keeping her eyes to the front and right. Lydia’s touch guided him as he walked backward, keeping their backs covered. The last thing they needed right now was to be ambushed.

He nearly tripped up, not able to predict Lydia’s moves as well as Jace’s. The yearning caused his rune to flare again, and he hissed in pain. “Alec?” Lydia’s concern whisper steadied him to the here and now. He had a job to do, and he would not fail twice in one night.

“I’m alright,” he insisted. “Keep going.”

They searched the area. They were careful, but quick. “Guard up,” Maryse said, and Alec turned to see what she did. The handle of a seraph blade laid on the ground.

Together, the trio moved, and behind a shipping container, found a dead Shadowhunter. Maryse crouched down beside the man. “It’s Nathan Ashfleur, he’s one of the re-enforcements from the Northern Institute.” She stood then, and Alec saw the anger in her eyes. “We need to find them.”

“We need to split up,” Alec said. “This place is too big to search as one. We’re wasting too much time. If they haven’t already gone, we need to find them before they do leave.”

Lydia nodded. “But we need to stay within shouting distance. Last report has us outnumbered.”

Maryse’s lips became a thin line of worry. “Be safe,” she said.

With that, the three split up.

***

Alec kept his bow at the ready, he moved quickly through the darkness of the port. He didn’t fear the shadows, he certainly didn’t fear any Circle member. His pain and self-loathing had been pushed aside in favour of deep anger. In the distance, he saw a duffle-bag sized shadow on the ground. Too small to be a crouching enemy. Curiosity pulled him forward more cautiously than before. The closer he got, the better he could see. “No,” he whispered in pure denial. That couldn’t be a little sneaker upon a foot of a person far too small to be dead.

But it was.

His heart sunk, and his stomach clenched. The boy had clearly been killed by a seraph blade. The child’s big eyes were open wide in horror. His green skin had gone entirely too pale in death. Large bumps upon his temples might have one day grown into full-fledged horns. Warlock marks. A warlock child had been murdered by those damn Circle members, and it managed to both anger and sadden him.

Reverently, Alec closed the little boy’s eyes. And a moment later, he knew he wasn’t alone.

A female wail of grief hit his ears, and he stood, spinning around. The woman’s arms were alight with orange squared sparks of power that was so unlike the beautiful blue fluidity of Magnus’s magic. “How could you!” She shouted, and the shipping containers moved with a horrific screech trapping him in a dead end, while she stood at the only exit. “You murdered my son!”

“I didn’t. I swear, I didn’t,” Alec said. He crouched keeping his hands in her view, and set down his bow, trying to show the woman that he meant no harm. “I’m here hunting those who did.”

“Shadowhunters,” she seethed. “You all think you’re better than us _Downworlders._ ”

“I didn’t say that,” Alec said. He needed to get this situation under control. The last thing the Institute needed in this time of increased demon activity was to deal with pissed off warlocks too. “Please. Let me do my job. I’ll find who did this to your son.”

“YOU DID THIS!” she screamed. “HE DIED BY YOUR HAND!”

The blast of orange magic struck him hard in the chest, knocking the wind from his lungs. His back hit the shipping container, snapping his head back- and it was lights out for Alec Lightwood.


	3. Chapter 3

Hands, warm on his face.

Words sounded as though they were spoken above water while he was drowning in it.

The familiar burn of a rune helped ground him.

He sucked in a breath, and startled back to full alertness.

Maryse let out a breath. For just a second, he would have sworn he saw tears in her eyes. “Alec!” She pulled him tightly into her arms. “By the Angel! What happened? We heard this awful sound, and-“ her voice broke, and she glanced over at Lydia.

“Had a heck of a time getting to you,” Lydia said, tucking her stele back in the pocket of her trousers. “Not the usual formation of shipping containers.”

He shifted to look between them. The child’s body was gone. “There was a warlock. She took me by surprise.”

“A warlock did this?” Maryse’s eyes narrowed. “Downworlders attacking Shadowhunters-“

“She thought I killed her son,” Alec said. He rubbed his hand over his chest. The concussive magic would surely leave a nasty bruise. “I found the boy’s body. He was killed by a seraph blade. She wasn’t entirely wrong, her son _was_ killed by a Shadowhunter, just not me.”

Maryse stood, looking every bit the warrior. “Warlocks might not be all that well organized, but small groups of them usually stick together. Just what we need-“ she trailed off as her phone rang. “Give me a minute,” she said, walking away.

Alec turned to Lydia. “Circle members?”

“Didn’t find any. Other than Nathan’s body, and the child you saw, there is no sign of them.”

“Damn it!” His fist flung to the side, hitting the metal container.

Lydia touched his shoulder. “We’re going to get through this.”

“I need a lead on Jace,” Alec said desperately. “The bond is fraying.” He silenced himself. He didn’t want to admit his fear out loud. A thread can only fray so much before it snaps completely. He let his head drop back, hitting against the shipping container.

Maryse returned, looking even more stressed than before. “Robert called. Two Seelie’s were found drained of blood.”

Lydia paled. “The Seelie’s won’t take that lightly.”

“I’m going to try and make a meeting with the Queen,” Maryse said with a heavy sigh. “At this rate, the entire Shadow World will be at war by morning. We need to get back to the institute and regroup-“

“There must be something else here,” Alec interjected. “I’ll stay, I have to find _something._ ”

“No, you need to get cleaned up, get some rest,” Maryse said. When Alec opened his mouth to argue she put up a hand, her eyes narrowing. “I already have one child in the infirmary, I don’t want to see you there too.” He closed his mouth, and nodded. She held out a hand, and he took it, allowing her to help him to his feet. “We’re going to need you rested. Whatever is going on is far from over.”

***

Once they’d returned to the institute, Maryse went straight into command to speak with Penelope. Lydia touched Alec’s arm. “Are you alright?” He must have paused a moment too long because her grip tightened, and eyes narrowed.

“Yeah,” he replied. In the bright lights of the Institute, he saw the blood all over him. “Can you find out how Isabelle is for me? I need to-“ he simply gestured to his torso with a hand covered in dried blood.

“Of course,” she said kindly. As he watched her walk off, he felt a weight fall from his shoulders. His ex-fiancée was something special. After all he’d put her through, he felt blessed by the Angel himself that he could still call her a friend.

He walked a little slower than usual toward the residential corridor of the Institute. His body ached pretty much everywhere. The stamina rune had worn off at some point during the drive back, and he fought his tired eyes knowing he couldn’t run on fumes forever. The warlock’s attack had really taken it out of him, and he leaned heavily against the wall for a moment as his legs shook under his weight.

Keeping a hand on the wall for stability, he continued, stopping only when a door opened. Clary still looked sleepy even after a few hours of rest, her hair was a bit of a mess, and in her hand was an empty glass. She stopped in her tracks when she saw him. “Alec!” She set the glass down on the floor just inside of her door, and rushed over to him. “Are you hurt? Did you capture one of the Circle members? How is-“

“Please,” Alec held up a hand. “Stop. I’m fine. And no.”

She frowned. “Okay.”

He stared at her a moment. “You’re not mad.”

Her brow pinched, her confusion plain to see. “Why would I be mad?”

The failure burned in his throat. “The Circle members all got away.”

“I’m just glad you’re…” she shook her head. “I was going to say ‘okay,’ but clearly you’re not.”

He scoffed. “I am.”

“No you’re not,” she argued. In that moment it struck him how he sounded like bickering siblings. She tucked herself under his arm, presumably to help him to his room. “You’re shaking- how bad were you hurt?”

“Lydia used an Iratze, I’ll be fine.”

“Then humour me, I’ll worry less if I see you to your room.” Her big green eyes were beseeching his approval. After a moment he sighed, and nodded. Her ‘assistance’ was little more than useless due to their height and weight difference. To keep steady his hand remained on the wall. Luckily, his room wasn’t all that much further than hers. She guided him toward the leather bench at the base of his bed, and he was grateful for the seat.

Her hand on the back of his neck surprised him. Still, he shifted when she pushed him forward just a bit. “My God, Alec. Are you sure you shouldn’t be in the infirmary?”

He turned, and managed to catch her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Your hair is just matted in blood. I know it’s not Isab-“ she trailed off, and pulled back to look him in the eye. “Sorry.”

Two quick knocks on the door, had them both turning. Lydia stood in the doorway. “The Silent Brothers have already left,” she informed them. “Isabelle is stable, she’s going to be fine, but she needs plenty of rest right now. They believe she’ll come around tomorrow evening.”

Alec smiled. “Finally, some good news.”

“Could you tell Simon?” Clary asked. “He’s in my room, in fear of Maryse’s wrath.”

Lydia gave a half smile. “Sure, no problem.”

“Thank you, Lydia,” Alec said.  She nodded, and shut the door behind her.

“You should have your head wound checked out,” Clary said, returning to the conversation they’d been having before Lydia came in. “You could have a concussion.”

Alec felt the back of his head, sure enough blood had dried making his hair hard and sticky. He cringed, even as he poked around. “It’s tender, but healed. The Iratze held.” He pushed one arm of his leather jacket from his shoulder, only to bite down on his lip trying to hold back the hiss of pain. Adrenaline had worn off along with the stamina rune, and the pain, soreness, and stiffness were settling into his muscles.

“I thought you said the Iratze healed you,” Clary stared at him with accusing eyes.

“It did,” Alec replied. “It’s not a miracle. It heals the worst of wounds first, and usually you still have to deal with some of the after effects. It’s just bruises. It’ll all be healed up in a few days, we still heal faster than mundanes.”

Clary frowned, the worry set deep in her face. Somehow, she looked older when she fretted. She touched the lapels of his jacket, pushed them down carefully, studying his face for any signs of discomfort. He pulled his wrists out of the jacket and she held it in her hands, her nose wrinkling up. “I’m not sure the drycleaner is going to be able to save this.” 

“Just toss it on the hamper. You’d be surprised. We’re Shadowhunters. Apart from demon venom and ichor, we can get pretty much anything out.”

She draped it over the hamper lid, and turned back to look at him. He could imagine what she saw. A figure a little too gaunt as of late, dark circles surely under his blue eyes, blood damn near everywhere, wounded, sore, a bit of anger, and entirely too much exhaustion. He blinked tiredly, and strongly considered just leaning over to the side, he could fall asleep on the bench with his feet dangling to the side. He knew it. He had before after some of the more gruelling battles in his life.

His hand shot out to steady himself when the thought threatened to be a reality. Clary, too perceptive for her own good came over to him. “Can you put your arms up?” she asked.

“What?”

“You need to go to bed, but you need to get washed up first.” She gestured to his shirt, caked with dried blood. “Now, can you manage, or should I cut it off?”

“I can manage,” he insisted, reaching up to grab the collar of the back of his shirt, despite the pain which made him want to fold over and protect his ribs. He pulled the shirt up and over his head, able to finally take a breath again as he dropped it to the floor.

Clary’s sharp intake of breath caught his attention. Tears made her eyes glossy. “Oh, Alec.”

He glanced down and saw the extensive bruising over his chest for the first time. “I’ve had worse,” he said, in effort to sooth her worry, but the words had the opposite effect.

He stood up, afraid that if he sat much longer, he’d fall asleep right there. “Go get some sleep, Clary. I’m fine, really. I’ll take a quick shower, and go to bed.” She studied him for a minute, before turning toward his bed and pulling the blankets down. He stared in confusion as she climbed up. “What are you doing?”  

“Resting here. Someone needs to make sure you don’t drown in the tub.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever drowned in the _shower_ ,” he corrected.

She just stared; the worry, fear, and desperation all clear in her eyes. “Everything has gotten so messed up in my life.” She eyed the bruises, a tear slipped down her face. “Bad things keep happening to everyone I love.” Her eyes avoided his, and she ran the back of her hand over her cheek.

His heart dropped. It surprised him that she counted him among those people. After all, he hadn’t been the most welcoming during those early days. How times change. He couldn’t imagine the Institute without the fiery redhead. She’d shown her bravery, her conviction, her willingness to go above and beyond to protect not just friends, but the innocent lives of those she’d never met. 

“You’re my friend,” Clary said. “I don’t like seeing you hurt. I just… I wish I could do something more. At least, I need to know you’re not going to pass out in the shower.”

Despite the fact that his legs wanted to promptly give out, he rounded the bed, and kissed her temple with a great wave of affection for the woman. “Fine,” he said it as though it pained him greatly, but when she looked up at him, he gave her a smile. “But you better not hog all the blankets.”

***

The hot water had worked miracles on his aching muscles, but further exhausted him. Eventually, he just gave into the need to sit down, the water relaxing him. Isabelle would be fine, and for that, he was profoundly grateful. He wanted to go and visit her, but knew he didn’t have the energy to make it to the other side of the Institute. His stamina rune had a deep, angry red welt around it from the double use. He felt like he could sleep for a week.

Reaching blindly, he shut off the water. He rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes as he thought about the madness that had crushed what had started out as a promising day. The demon attacks. The spotted Circle members. The dead Shadowhunter. The sneakers on the little warlock boy, the child’s wide eyes haunted him.

Warlock.

_Magnus._

Remembering the promised text, he forced himself back to his feet, opening the shower door, the cool air chilled the water droplets clinging to his skin. He quickly towelled off, and pulled on comfortable sweatpants. He considered the old t-shirt, but the bruises promised pain, and so he left it on the counter.

He felt a little steadier as he walked barefoot across his room, the Iratze still working at healing him. Opening the jacket, careful not to get blood on himself again, he reached into the inner chest pocket and pulled out his phone. He turned it over and frowned. “Damn it.” The screen was shattered, still he tried to reboot the thing, but it was done. In anger, he threw it across the room where it hit the wall and fell upon the hardwood floors.

“Alec?” Clary stared at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” he muttered, walking around to the other side of the bed. He laid down a little too quick, the pain was sharp but faded quickly. The pillow felt like a little slice of heaven.  “Phone’s broke.”

Clary yawned. “Do you want to use mine?”

He appreciated the offer, would have agreed, but his eyes grew too heavy, and the utter nothingness pulled him under. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter took so long. I ended up re-writing it four or five times. Hopefully it doesn't totally suck.

Shadowhunter senses kicked in when Alec felt a presence in his room. It also came with the feeling of spinning despite knowing he was laying perfectly still. The staccato clicks kept getting closer. Heels, he realized, someone in his room wore heels. Of course, none of that mattered as his stomach revolted, and he lurched to the side, arm blindly swinging out for the garbage bin. A hand touched his shoulder, and the bin was under him just in time. He ended up dry-heaving, having had nothing in his system since breakfast. Dizzy, he pulled back.

Maryse’s eyes stayed on him, the bucket in her well-manicured hand. “Done?”

He nodded. He was thankful that his mother didn’t scold him for the double use of the Stamina rune which brought upon both the overwhelming exhaustion, and the sickness as his system tried to right itself. She set the bin aside.

“Did you meet with the Seelie Queen?” he asked.

“No, she sent a few of her people. I spoke with Meliorn.” Maryse sighed. “Of course, we could have used Isabelle on that one.” She glanced over at Clary who somehow managed to remain asleep, and back to her son with a raised eyebrow.

“She sleeps better here,” he said as way of explanation.

“I thought you didn’t like her,” Maryse said.

“I didn’t,” Alec replied. “I judged her too fast and never gave her a chance. I was wrong.” He stared at his mother, wondering if she heard the subtext. If she did, she ignored it.

Her hands clasped together.  “Well, rest time is over.”

He sat up, and the sheet fell from his chest, he saw his mother’s eyes widen. He followed the look. The bruising actually looked considerably better. Still purple, edges of yellow and green, but it didn’t hurt as bad.

“Warlocks have started interfering with our work,” Maryse said, looking him right in the eyes. “Seelies are still angry, but I managed to talk Meliorn down after I took him to the Infirmary. Once he saw that we were dealing with our own losses and injured, and perhaps seeing Isabelle wounded, he agreed to speak with the Queen on our behalf.”

“Has the demon activity lessened?”

“There hasn’t been any recent new sightings, but we’re still dealing with patches of activity.”

Alec nodded. “Anything on Circle members since the port?”

Maryse’s lips pressed into a thin line and she shook her head. “Get ready, and go to my office, I’ll be there shortly. Wake Clarissa as well. We’re going to need all hands on deck for this.”

***

Alec felt on edge as he stepped out of his room, shortening his strides slightly so Clary could keep up. He had spent the majority of his life side by side with Jace and Isabelle. The trio was rather inseparable. Despite Alec and Jace having the Parabatai bond, they both cared deeply for Isabelle, trained with, and worked with her always.  And now he had neither. In their place, a tiny wisp of a woman who did her best, but was hardly trained for the hellfire currently raining down.

She stopped at her room, and looked directly to the chair. “Come on.”

“Me, now?” Simon stood and approached them. “Does Maryse know-“

“Now, Stefan,” Alec said, messing up the vampire’s name on purpose.

“Simon,” he said, exasperated. He looked at Clary. “Can you believe this guy?”

“I’m not sure my mother is going to want him there,” Alec said to Clary.

“All hands, that’s what she said,” Clary said.

“You guys don’t have to talk around me, you know, I’m right here,” Simon muttered.

They fell into a silence as they approached the office. The light emanated under the closed door, and the voices were muted, but still distinguishable. Alec recognized the voices of his parents, a familiar female voice he couldn’t quite place, and a booming male voice that he had never heard before. He paused at the door, and held a hand up to stop the other two. With one finger to his lips, he urged them to be silent.

With his stele in hand, he traced over the dormant awareness rune. Shutting his eyes, he listened closer as the murmur became clear.

“-the warlocks need to be eliminated,” the booming voice said.

“Calm yourself, Kane,” the unknown female said. Despite having a soft, almost breathy voice, there was no denying the authority. “We will _deal with_ the warlocks. They seem almost a secondary threat to me at this point though.”

“You’re underestimating them,” Maryse said.

“You’re underestimating the utter chaos that will follow if the Seelies and Vampires go to war with one another,” the female replied. “Maintaining peace needs to be the priority.”

“So you’ll just let the warlocks slaughter-“

“Kane! Silence!” The woman’s voice grew sharp with anger.

Having heard enough, Alec swiped his stele over the rune once again, bringing his hearing back down to normal levels. “Keep your opinions to yourself,” he said, not sure if Clary or Simon would cause more problems. “This is neither the time, nor place. We’ll get our orders, and we’ll go. Understood?”

“What’s going on inside?” Clary wanted to know.

“Politics,” Alec muttered. He knocked twice and opened the door.

“Alec, good,” Maryse nodded. “Surely you remember Bryn Penrose? She now heads the Northern Institute with her husband.”

Having heard her voice he felt a little annoyed that he hadn’t figured it out sooner. Bryn Penrose came from an influential family. The Penrose’s had been running the Northern Institute since it was built back in the 1800’s. She had similar features to the rest of her family; a sharp, angular face, lithe frame, and auburn hair, which she’d grown long and had wound up in a complex style.

“Of course,” he replied. “You beat me at a game of chess.”

Bryn smiled at that. “I am good at claiming kings.”

She had a lilt of humour in her voice, and Alec struggled to figure out why. _Kingsgate_ , he realized after a moment _, she married Jonathon Kingsgate_.

“Are we going to get to business?” The large man asked, clearly irritated by the formalities.

Bryn shot the man an icy glare.  “That is what we’re here for, Kane,” she said, the voice of cool control. When he remained silent, she turned her attention to Maryse. “What is the most pressing issue?”

Maryse remained silent a moment, and cast a look her husband’s way. Robert sighed. “Hard to say. Demon activity is down, but Warlock activity is up. The Seelies want something done about their dead.”

Maryse tapped her nails against the glossy finish of her mahogany desk. “They won’t retaliate until sunrise.”

“Which is only an hour away,” Robert finished.

“Ah, so battling demons, and preventing a war between the fair folk and the night’s children,” Bryn said. “Just another Tuesday then.”

Maryse managed a small smile. “There is more.”

“Lovely,” Bryn said, all sarcasm and false smiles. “I do love a challenge.”

“Wait, can we go back,” Simon said. Alec elbowed him, eyes wide. “What?”

“What is the vampire doing here?” Maryse stood a little straighter, as if the young man’s presence personally insulted her.  “I do believe I said ‘not to cause trouble.’”

“I’m not.” Simon shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.  “But as you pointed out, vampire here. And… the fair folk are planning to attack them. For something they didn’t even do-“

Maryse silenced him with a single hand. “We don’t know that one way or another.”

Simon shook his head. “Raphael wouldn’t have let anyone in the clan break the Accords.”

Maryse raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you proof of how incorrect that statement is?”

“Let me talk to him,” Simon pleaded.

“No,” Alec said suddenly, surprising everyone. “He wants you dead.”

Simon’s eyes widened. “Didn’t think you’d care.”

Alec huffed out a breath. “I’m not going to let you go walk to your own execution, Simon.”

“Also didn’t realize you knew my name!”

“Consorting with Warlocks, now Vampires,” Kane said.

“Not. Another. Word,” Bryn commanded, her voice holding the same wicked edge as a blade. Kane opened his mouth, and Bryn raised her hand. “Don’t.” She turned to Alec. “My apologies for my… colleague.”

Alec felt awkward under the intensity of Kane’s glare, and the softness of Bryn’s apology. “Right, and back to the point of this meeting.” He looked over at his mother only to be startled by the gentle knock on the door.

He turned, and there stood Lydia. “Magnus Bane is here.”

“Magnus,” Alec breathed, and immediately felt guilty for not remembering to text. He looked over at his mother. Concern blooming in his heart.

“Send him in,” Maryse said.

Alec found his breath catching upon setting eyes on the warlock. Before he could control his expression, the smile broke free. “Hey,” his voice caught and it was nothing but a whisper. It took him a second longer to catch on to the tension in Magnus’s shoulders, the pain in his eyes. Alec’s smile faltered.  “Are you okay?”

“You didn’t call,” Magnus accused, keeping his voice a whisper.

“Warlocks are attacking Shadowhunters,” Maryse’s sharp voice cut through their quiet moment. “What do you have to say about that?”

Magnus didn’t so much as bat an eye. His stare kept Alec frozen. “Did you do it?”

Maybe Simon, with his vampire senses overheard, but Alec knew no one else would. “Do what?” Alec asked.

“Did you-“

“Kane!” ­­­­Bryn’s panicked voice hit Alec like a shot of adrenaline.

Alec felt Clary moved closer to his side, saw her seraph blade light up in his peripheral vision. Even as he spun around he managed to get his bow in hand, an arrow nocked, and shifted his stance so he was between the other Shadowhunter and Magnus. He wasn’t prepared for the slight figure of Bryn being shaken off of Kane’s arm like she weighed nothing. She swung out her arms, but it was Robert who helped her regain her balance.

“Fucking warlocks,” Kane muttered, his seraph blade lit.

Alec raised his bow, and aimed the arrow right for his fellow Shadowhunter. “Stand down.”

Bryn surged forward again, grabbing onto Kane’s bladed arm. “You can’t blame every Warlock for what happened to Shannon.”

The large man stopped, pain flashing over his face before it was replaced with a mask of anger. His dark glare turned on Bryn. “They’re dangerous, uncontrollable. We know that. We’ve seen what they can do.”

“We’ve seen what one monster can do,” she said, slowly shifting around his body, keeping a hand on his arm. “But not every Warlock is one.”

Alec watched as she slipped her hand around her back, and grabbed the handle of a seraph dagger. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he would be damned if he let anything happen to Magnus, especially within the walls of the Institute and at the hands of a fellow shadowhunter.

“They’re all the same,” Kane’s eyes flickered over to Alec, and Magnus behind him. “Fucking Downworlders-“

“Listen to you,” Bryn hissed, finally getting in front of Kane’s blade. Alec wondered if she thought he just wouldn’t hurt her, even though he’d knocked her back like a pesky insect. She was directly in the line of his shot, and he loosened the tension, unwilling to accidentally hurt an innocent bystander. “Do you know who you sound like right now? This isn’t you.”

“He butchered my fiancée like she was nothing. He drained her of everything,” Kane’s voice broke. “What _it_ did…”

“You think I don’t know? _We_ were the ones to find her.” Bryn turned her dagger just slightly, and Alec could see the moves she’d take if it were to come to a fight. One swift jab would hit him in the leg, and another arching up would hook him under the ribs, however, with where his sword was against her chest, she’d likely get cut up pretty bad before he went down. “For the Angel’s sake, she might have been your love, but she was my Parabatai.” Bryn’s voice broke at the end of a sob. “ _I died with her.”_

The sword shook, and finally lowered. Bryn’s dagger moved to a safer position. “Go… take a walk,” she ordered, sounding suddenly exhausted. “Never again insult her memory. Shannon strived for peace. I will not be so lenient next time.”

Kane shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. When he walked by, Alec moved, ensuring he was between the Shadowhunter and Magnus the entire time.

“I… deeply apologise for his behavior,” Bryn said, eyes glossy. “It is unworthy of him, and of my Institute’s reputation.” She swiped at a tear.

“We cannot afford such disruptions,” Maryse said coolly.

“I understand, and will take every precaution to avoid it,” Bryn said, straightening out, her hand ran over the three-quarter sleeve of her immaculate black and gold suit jacket. Her fingers hovered over the mark on her arm- her Parabatai rune. She cleared her throat, and clasped her hands behind her back. “I’ll have Kane sent back to the Northern Institute. I won’t take any risks with how chaotic our current situation is.”

Maryse nodded. “Good. Now that that is settled,” she turned her attention back to Magnus. “Shadowhunters have been injured recently by Warlocks. We have one who is missing. You’re the High Warlock of Brooklyn, what do you have to say for your people?”

“I require a moment alone with Alexander,” Magnus stated, rather than requested.

Alec felt his body become all too warm. He chanced a look at his mother, who looked more than displeased. “I’ll be right back,” he grabbed Magnus’s by the bicep and pulled him out of the room. He glanced back to ensure they weren’t followed, and quickly looked around- the hall was empty. He looked Magnus over for any sign he’d been in any of the altercations between Shadowhunters and Warlocks. Instead, he noticed the space left between them, the wariness in the Warlock’s glamoured eyes. Something was very, very wrong. This didn’t feel the same as the lightness that came with their first date. “What did I do? Is this because I didn’t text back- I was going to, it’s just my phone-“

“This isn’t about a text,” Magnus hissed. “It’s about a dead warlock, it’s about a _child_ , whose life was cut so very short. It’s about a woman who came to me carrying the body of the child she’d sworn to care for, to protect. A woman who blames a Shadowhunter named Alec-“

Alec felt a weight in his stomach, and he felt sicker than he had with the double use of the stamina rune. “I didn’t-“ he said. It hurt when he realized Magnus clearly thought _he could have done it._ “I found the boy like that-“

“He was killed with a Shadowhunter’s blade,” Magnus said, his voice not accusing so much as it was wary.

“I know. I found the boy after he was already dead,” Alec whispered. “I wouldn’t kill a child… how could you even think that I could?”

Magnus’s face scrunches with guilt. “It’s not that I thought you’d go out on a killing spree. I just thought, maybe the kid’s magic got away from him. Maybe one of your fellow Shadowhunters were in danger, and you protected them. She named you. Heard other Shadowhunters calling for you, so she took her child and left. She said… she said she hurt you.” Magnus looked away, clearly pained. “I… I didn’t know what to think. She was certain when she blamed you.”

Magnus swallowed, a grimace on his face. “I still… I just wanted to see you, to see if you were alright, and that’s-“ He ran his hand through his hair, all black for once- a small thing that worried Alec. “I’m the High Warlock of Brooklyn, protecting Warlocks is what I’m supposed to do. That boy died, and I was worried about my Shadowhunter.” He shook his head, as if all his years hadn’t prepared him for the complex emotions currently coursing through him. His next words were nothing more but a breathy whisper, “I’m sorry for accusing you. I should have known better. Are you… are you injured?”

“I’m fine,” Alec said. In honesty, Magnus’s doubt hurt him more than the Warlock’s orange magic.

Magnus raised a disbelieving brow.

Alec sighed. “I’m a little bruised, but I’m fine.”

“Well considering this is going to very likely get worse before it gets better,” Magnus put his hands on Alec’s tense shoulders. Warmth emanated from the blue fire. His ringed fingers lightly ran down Alec’s chest, his magic healing what another’s had hurt. “There, better?”

Alec found himself short of breath, but it had nothing to do with the injury. Not anymore. He knew if he were to lift his shirt, the bruises would be gone. “Yes. Thank you.”

The Warlock ran his thumb over the hem of Alec’s shirt. “Just stay safe today.”

A small smile fitted onto Alec’s face. “I’ll try.”  

Clary burst out of the office, and looked both ways. Her eyes narrowed on Alec and Magnus. “Did either of you see Simon?”

“What?” Alec’s face scrunched, lip curling just slightly in confusion.

“ _Simon,”_ Clary emphasized the name, as if he might have actually forgotten it as he frequently pretended to do. “Damn it. He… he must have snuck out when Bryn and Kane were fighting.” She ran her hands through her hair and tugged on the roots. “He’s going to the Hotel Dumort. He’s going to get himself killed! Again!” her voice rising in her panic. “I have to do something-“

“There isn’t anything you can do,” Alec said. Her angered eyes flicked to him. “He’s got a head start, you won’t be able to stop him, and you won’t be able to get him out since it’s nearly daybreak.”

“The clan will kill him-“

“Maybe he’ll talk his way out of it,” Alec said. “He’s good at talking.”

Clary looked away, but not before he caught the forlorn expression upon her face. “We can use the tunnels, and… and… a car in the underground parking. If we can just-“

“We can’t,” Alec said, and it hurt to do so. Not that he particularly cared one way or another about the Vampire, but because Clary was so clearly in distress about it. “He’s a vampire. I’d never be able to get it sanctioned, and we’ve still got an above average number of demons to take care of, not to mention a war that could be coming when the sun comes up in-“ Alec checked his watch. “Twenty-three minutes. I’m sorry, Clary.”

Before, she would have run off. Now, she seemed to resign herself. “Damn it, Simon,” she whispered.

Maryse stepped out into the hallway, and looked at the trio with barely contained distain. “Care to join us? Time is not on our side.”

Alec glanced at Clary, who nodded and together, the three made their way back into the office.


	5. Chapter 5

When Alec Lightwood gets orders, he follows them. Never did he question them, or try to push the responsibility on to someone else. However, when his mother gives him a mission that wasn’t directly linked to the most prominent threat, he’s a bit insulted. Not only that, but he doesn’t want to leave Magnus alone to be questioned by his parents on the recent attacks on Shadowhunters.

He does it.

But he doesn’t like it.

“We should be at the Hotel Dumort,” Clary said as they walked down the street. People were out jogging, and walking to work. The city was waking up. Traffic looked like a nightmare. A few people were already out on café patios drinking their morning lattes. 

“We need to find that missing Shadowhunter.” Lydia’s braid swayed in time with her brisk walk. In a formal blouse with short sleeves, her runes were on display- a few unfinished in case they were needed in an emergency. Her stele poked out the back pocket of her trousers.

“I know,” Clary replied, pushing an escaped curl back behind her ear.

Alec understood and empathised with Clary. He’d rather be with Magnus, ensuring that his parents didn’t tear him to pieces; or at the Hotel Dumort ensuring war didn’t break out between the Fair Folk and the Night Children; or doing something productive toward finding Jace. But he had his orders, and he would follow them.

::

Clary had wrangled Luke into aiding them, and he was already waiting in an alleyway beside Pandemonium- the last known location for Colton Lockwell. The werewolf didn’t look happy. “I smell blood,” he said as way of greeting.

Alec’s stomach rolled at the thought of another dead Shadowhunter. “Which way?”

Luke just pointed up, and Alec’s eyes followed the movement. A cracked open window. Perhaps the backroom? An office? “Damn it.”

“The door is locked, I checked,” Luke said. He shifted irritably. The window was on the second floor of the building, and there was no fire escape or any means of climbing. “I bet Magnus has this place warded during the day.”

After a moment of consideration, Alec stepped forward recalling a time when Magnus had told him, ‘my doors will always open for you, Alexander.’ Alec placed his hand on the door. “Come on, open,” he muttered under his breath. He heard the deadbolt turn over and felt a cool rush that came with the dissipating ward. “Got it.” He didn’t look back, worried about the looks he might get.

With bow in hand, he stepped into the hallway, bathrooms on either side, and kept going forward. The club’s dance floor looked like the night sky, but the room lost something without the usual lighting, and thrumming bass. Clary had her witchlight in one hand, and her seraph blade in the other. Lydia on his other side had her dual daggers out, and looked ready for a fight.

Luke took to leading them, and paused at the top of the stairs. His nose wrinkled. “That’s a lot of blood.”

“Anyone else here?” Alec whispered, eager to aid the fallen Shadowhunter.

“Not that I can tell,” Luke said, and Alec rushed forward and opened the door.

The sight left him lightheaded, and sick. He turned and blocked Clary, grabbing her shoulders and turning her around.

“Hey!” the redheaded spitfire wiggled. “What are you doing?”

“Take her downstairs,” Alec ordered Luke.

The werewolf didn’t question why. Alec figured the overwhelming metallic scent of blood let him know the man was beyond saving. Once Clary and Luke were downstairs, he came to stand beside Lydia, both of them just staring at the body.

“This is very bad, Alec,” Lydia whispered, her hand under her nose as she tried to block out some of the stench.

Of course. That went without saying. A Shadowhunter was dead, inside what appeared to be a cleaning supply room inside of the Pandemonium. To make matters worse, his intestines had been torn out, and in elegant cursive, did the spell out the name ‘Magnus Bane.’

“That’s his signature,” Lydia said.

“I know it is,” Alec replied, his voice choked with emotion. He’d watched the man fill out papers at the Institute before. He knew every swirl, and marker.

“A warlock child died by a Shadowhunter’s ha-“

“A circle member,” Alec argued. “They hardly qualify.”

“If the blade lights,” was all Lydia said on that matter. “The point is, this was done with magic. There is no way that kind of precision happens without it. That is one powerful, and violent warlock.”

“It wasn’t Magnus,” Alec snapped.

Lydia’s hand squeezed his arm. “I know.” She paused, and looked up at him. “But, have you considered the alternative meaning.”

Alec’s shoulders tightened. “What do you mean?”

“Body of a Shadowhunter, inside the club the High Warlock of Brooklyn, guts spelling out his name.” Lydia shrugged. “Looks a bit like a threat, or like someone wants Magnus to get into trouble with the Clave.”

Alec groaned at the thought- just when he thought his week couldn’t possibly get worse, it did.

::

Tense and miserable, Alec returned to the Institute. There were a few Shadowhunters remaining, and the High Warlock of Brooklyn was perched upon a table, studying his nails. At least some of the tension melted away upon seeing Magnus in one piece. Aware that Lydia, Clary, and Luke were still with him, he kept his stride even as he approached Magnus.

The glamoured eyes glanced up at him, a smile immediately following, and then a frown when he saw Alec’s expression. “Found the Shadowhunter?”

“Dead,” Alec said in a whisper. “I need to speak with you. Now. Privately.” Magnus raised his chin, just slightly, then nodded. Alec shot Clary a look. “Don’t go anywhere.” Then to Luke. “Don’t let her do anything stupid.” With that, he grabbed Magnus and dragged him toward the residence wing, and quickly into his room.

“Are you alright, Alexander?” Magnus asked.

Alec could only imagine how he must have looked, given that Magnus didn’t make a quick quip about rushing them into the bedroom. “No.” He took a breath, wondered how to explain, and ran his hands through his hair. “We found him. Colton Lockwell. His body, we found it.”

Magnus reached out, and Alec found himself grounded. He closed his eyes, he never let his emotions cloud his judgement, but this was Magnus, and he’d be damned if he let some circumstantial evidence condemn him in the eyes of the Clave. “Did you know him well?”

“What?” Alec realized belatedly that Magnus must think he’s upset about the death, rather than the circumstances. “No. Not really. He transferred here a few years ago. I worked with him, but, no, and that isn’t the problem.” He wondered how he ended up so cold hearted that the death of a fellow Shadowhunter didn’t have a more profound effect on him. “We found him inside a supply room in the Pandemonium.”

At that, Magnus stiffened. “You don’t think that I-“

“Of course not,” Alec scoffed. “But someone wants us to think you did, or wants you to be questioned by the Clave, or just to get us Shadowhunters all the more riled up.” He swallowed hard. “His intestines were ripped out-“

“Oh, Alec,” Magnus’s touch on his cheek was sympathetic, but not what Alec needed at the moment.

“They spelt out your name. A perfect replica of your signature,” Alec continued, “It was done by a warlock.”

Confusion fitted over Magnus’s face. “That’s problematic.”

“Don’t ask, but his insides are back… inside,” Alec wondered if there was still blood under his nails, or if the stench of death followed him. “We couldn’t figure out what to do with the body though. Moving it would imply far more guilt if found out. We left it. I just, I don’t know what to do here, Mags.”

Three knocks on the door cut him off. “Alec?”

He couldn’t help it, he took a step back from Magnus at the sound of his father’s voice. “Yeah, come in.”

Robert opened the door, and stood there a second, staring at his son and the High Warlock. “You came in fast. Did you find Colton?”

Alec glanced at Magnus, who sighed, and nodded. “The body was found at my establishment.”

Robert bristled. “The body.”

“He’d been dead for a while when we’d gotten there,” Alec said.

The older Shadowhunter crossed his arms. “Found in your ‘establishment.’”

Alec took a defensive step forward. “He didn’t do it, Dad.”

“Stay out of it, Alec,” Robert said. “The Inquisitor will want to-“

“No.” Everyone, Alec included, was shocked by how sharp his voice was. He cleared his throat. “No. He didn’t do it. We all know he didn’t.” A sinking suspicion kicked in. “Valentine did.”

He expected the immediate denial. Instead, his father appeared thoughtful. “He’s used Downworlders to his advantage before, when it suited him,” Robert mused, and following his son’s train of thought, he continued. “Demons must obey he who holds the cup.”

“Circle members killed that Warlock child to turn them against Shadowhunters,” Alec continued. “And if he got a Warlock to kill a Shadowhunter, we’d have a war on our hands.”

“Two,” Magnus corrected. “He could have easily been the one to drain those Seelies, making them blame the Night Children, and start a war on that front.”

“And we’d all be too busy fighting each other to fight him.” Alec groaned. “Is mom protecting Hotel Dumort?”

“Yes, last report, they have the Seelie’s standing down. For now.”

“We need Izzy,” Alec muttered. The Silent Brothers said she wouldn’t be better until the afternoon. He glanced over at Magnus. “Any chance you can help her?”

Blue flames licked over Magnus’s fingers. “I’ll give it my best.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note; while I've read some of the books (hit college, didn't realize there were more books coming out in the series, still haven't read 5-6) and it's been a while since I have read them (YEARS! Although I recently re-read 1-2). Thus, I follow the TV cannon a little closer, however, obviously this won't be how it plays out in season 2, and I'm having fun playing around with this... so technically, this is AU, right? Or more of a UA? Whatever. Just... roll with it. <3

“Apparently, I should never sleep,” Isabelle was in the middle of a tirade. Alec stayed out of her way as she stormed around her bedroom. He was profoundly grateful to have Magnus in his life. The Warlock had used his magic to speed along Isabelle’s recovery. Even though she was in a terrible mood, Alec couldn’t quite manage to get the little smile off his face as he watched her. Her anger brought him comfort, she was well again. Magnus, being exhausted after offering his assistance, slept in Alec’s bed- and maybe that was part of the reason his smile just wouldn’t falter.

“How could it have all fallen apart so fast?” Isabelle pulled a three-quarter length leather jacket from her closet and pulled it on over her black dress. Her hair flung around as she looked one way and then the other before storming over to the little couch. “By the Angel!” She dug a knee-high boot with seven inch heels out from under the couch, and begun the hunt for its partner. The door opened with a slight creak, and Isabelle’s intense stare turned to Clary. “Any word?”

“No,” she replied softly.

“Damn it!” Isabelle dropped down to her hands and knees to look under the bed. “Damn it all!” Back on her feet she looked around again before spotting her other boot under a discarded dress. She retrieved it and sat down on the couch to put them on. “We can’t let what little trust we still have with the Seelies be broken, not to mention, Simon-“ she cursed and muttered as she pulled up the zipper. “How could he have just put himself at risk like that?”

“He was trying to help,” Clary said, defensive of her best friend. “And he did. He’s alive. Rafael listened.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. They could lock Simon up in a casket like Camille,” Isabelle said. “Or worse. Being immortal gives you time to get creative.”

“That’s enough, Izzy,” Alec warned when he saw the distraught look on Clary’s face. Last thing they needed was for the little redhead to go rogue and try to pull off a rescue mission.

Standing in her heels, she still didn’t quite make it to the same height as her brother. “Where is my whip?”

::

Alec paused. Isabelle stood to his left, Clary, and Lydia to his right. The sight of the Shadowhunters dressed all in black, their weapons at the ready standing before the Hotel Dumort.  The Emerald Knights stood strong in numbers, intricate weapons in hands. The ‘construction’ of the hotel gave them a great deal of space if it came to a fight. They had the daylight on their side, the Seelies knew if they breached the hotel, they could cause havoc within. For now, they stood mostly still, as if their immortality had taught them patience. Alec knew better. They were biding time. They wouldn’t care about colliding with Shadowhunters in battle if their Queen ordered it. They’d do so gleefully.

“This could get really bad, really fast,” Isabelle whispered. “See that tall redhead beside Meliorn?”

“Yeah,” Alec replied. The woman had a long, lean body, the kind of arrogant profile and curve to her lips that told him she didn’t fear the impending battle. She dressed in layers of brown, green, and her right arm was entirely covered in shimmering gold- her sword arm, and an intricate rapier in hand. “Who is she?”

“Commander of the Emerald Knights,” Isabelle replied.

“I’ve heard about her,” Lydia said, sounding a little in awe. “Fast and lethal on the battle field. I don’t think she’s ever even taken injury in battle.”

“You sound impressed,” Clary said, eyebrow raised.

“Of course I am!” Lydia replied. “Who wouldn’t be?” Lydia shifted to look around the redhead and over at Isabelle. “Ready?”

Isabelle nodded, and they started walking closer. She elbowed Alec lightly. “How pissed do you think Mom is going to be to see us?”

He managed a little grin that turned out more like a grimace.

Seelies and Shadowhunters both turned to look at them as they approached, while Alec lead Clary and Lydia behind the wall of Shadowhunters, Isabelle walked between the two fractions, her seven inch heels clicking with every step.

Alec, with his longer strides managed to stand behind his mother before Isabelle got too close. He heard Maryse sigh, but more, he saw over her shoulder, and saw the slightest smirk on the Commander’s face. “Your daughter?” the voice was all rough gravel and crashing waves. The Seelies edged closer, like this conversation was something they wanted to hear.

Alec noticed his mother tense, the lines of her pinching with her shoulders drawing back. “Yes.”

“Isabelle Lightwood,” The Commander said as the young Shadowhunter came to stand between her and Maryse. She pronounced the name more like “I-so-Bell’ rather than ‘is-a-belle,’ but neither Lightwood corrected. “I’ve heard many things about you.”

Isabelle’s dark eyes shot toward Meliorn for a moment, he looked nervous, but nodded in her direction. Isabelle turned back to the Commander. “I hope those things were all flattering.”

The Commander only smiled.

Alec managed to be more impressed by the Commander now that he stood beside his mother. The woman stood just a few inches shorter than he did. Her red hair was in some complex braided style, tiny white flowers scattered throughout. The sunlight glinted off her armoured sword arm, and her weapon was more ornamental than all of Magnus’ jewelry put together. He could spend all day studying it, and still not pick out all the little details. The leather armour wouldn’t do much against a Seraph blade, but from what Lydia told him, none of that would matter.

He hoped it wouldn’t come to that anyway.

“I’ve heard about you too,” Isabelle said.

“Did you?” The Commander replied, her red glossed lips twitched.

“Ruthless on the battlefield,” Isabelle said, the rest of her sentence dying when she saw Meliorn do a small shake of his head. She cleared her throat. “We Shadowhunters could learn from you.” A few Shadowhunters muttered angrily to one another.

“Perhaps,” The Commander replied, sounding disinterested now. “The Queen would never permit such things.”

“Maybe she would reconsider,” Isabelle said, cut off from speaking further when her mother grabbed her arm and pulled her close.

“What are you doing?” Maryse’s voice went low and quiet.

“For once, trust me,” Isabelle hissed.

Alec noted the way the Seelies were grinning, delighted by the conflict. He put his hand on his mother’s shoulder. “Trust Izzy. She knows what she’s doing.”

“She shouldn’t even be out of the infirmary,” Maryse muttered, releasing her daughter.

“Magnus helped,” Alec said.

Maryse sighed.

“I would like to speak with the Queen,” Isabelle said. Alec tensed. Maryse groaned. Lydia cursed. Clary wondered out loud why everyone was making a big huff, and Alec didn’t have time to explain.

“Isabelle,” Meliorn warned with just her name.

“Perhaps she’d be willing to speak with you,” The Commander said.

“Will you allow me to?” Isabelle asked.

The Seelies were practically thrumming with energy, glints of auras, and fluttering of wings were making Alec edgy.

The Commander considered, or at least pretended to, for a moment. “No.”

“Look,” Isabelle switched from flattery to battle tactics. “The Night Children didn’t kill the Seelie.”

“Who did?” The Commander asked.

Isabelle sucked in a breath. “We believe Valentine’s men did.”

The Commander frowned. “If you were a Seelie, I’d be more inclined to believe you.”

“Isabelle is not a liar,” Meliorn spoke softly.

“You are blinded by affection,” The Commander said, not aggressively, almost wistful. “And your views on this matter are clouded.”

“If she wanted to lie, she would have been smart enough not to accuse another Shadowhunter.”

“He’s not worthy of that title,” Isabelle muttered.”

The Commander studied her a long moment. “No. He is not. Your kind were once honourable.”

She tucked her head, almost as if she were shamed second-hand by his actions. “And now?” Isabelle asked, although Alec could tell she feared the answer.

He tensed when she raised a hand quickly, but it slowed as it touched Isabelle’s jaw gently, tipping it back so they could look eye to eye. “There is still honour. It’s merely more difficult to find.” The Commander drew back. “I don’t doubt that you believe this Isabelle Lightwood. However, we’ve long had our… challenges with the Night Children. Perhaps someone else is protecting them.” Her hazel eyes cut to Clary.

“M-me?” Clary stuttered.

The Commander motioned her closer, and Clary nervously stepped between Maryse and Alec. “You do have a friend in there, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Clary answered.

“And you’d do anything to protect him.”

“Of course.”

The Commander pointed at Clary, but looked at Isabelle. “You see my problem?”

“Your kind wasn’t the only ones targeted,” Alec said, taking a step forward. His long gait put him a few inches ahead of Clary, and slightly off to her left.

Hazel eyes turned from Isabelle, to Maryse, to Alec. “You must be Alexander Lightwood.”

Under her eerie gaze, he swallowed hard. “I am.”

“You’re in a relationship with the High Warlock of Brooklyn, Magnus Bane.”

The way she recited facts terrified him. Her peculiar gaze, put a weight on his shoulders. He feared more than anything saying the wrong thing and breaking the apparent truce between their people. Of course, the Shadow World must have been buzzing with the news of Alec Lightwood, leaving his bride at the altar, making his way down the aisle to kiss a warlock, a downworlder, Magnus fricken’ Bane. Of course she knew. And all the Shadowhunters around him knew. Other than that one kiss, he’d kept everything quiet. Not that there had been much since.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“And what does your mother think about that?”

He frowned. “Why does that matter?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What does your mother think about you being with a _Downworlder_?”

Breaths became shallow as he remembered the heat of his mother’s anger that followed his botched wedding. “She doesn’t like it. Doesn’t accept it. Didn’t speak to me for a while after. I don’t understand why you think you need to know this.”

“It pains you,” The Commander said. “I see it. I see that your mother’s lack of acceptance hurts you, you respect her opinion, desire it. Yet, you do not conform to her wish. Do you know what that tells me, Alexander Lightwood?”

He kept his eyes locked on hers, and shook his head.  

“That you believe that what someone is, is not more important than _who_ someone is.”

His mouth opened in a slight gape, but he didn’t know what to say.

“Now, who else was targeted?”

And Alec told her. Told her everything. Things that perhaps his own mother didn’t yet know. The Commander remained quiet, and nodded when he was done. “I do believe that Valentine is the problem.”

“What you believe doesn’t matter,” a Seelie in impressive armour said. He stood just to the Commander’s left. “The Queen said to storm the Hotel Dumort. To burn the Night Children. These are our orders, and yet you defy our-“

He didn’t get further. Without looking, she had swiftly brought her rapier up and between the delicate overlapping metal around his neck. His eyes opened comically wide. “The Queen said, _‘Destroy walls, and rip down those tacky window coverings. I want the Night Children to burn.’_ Now tell me, did you hear anything about breaking the accords by doing battle with Shadowhunters?”

When he failed to immediately answer, she pushed just a little harder. “N-no, no Commander.”

“Did she say specifically when those orders were to be followed through on?”

“No Commander.”

“I defend the Queen, the Court, and their best interest,” The Commander said. “Do you doubt me? My orders?”

“No!” his voice pitched and he gave way to fear, grabbing her blade trying to pull away but it stayed with him, and his hands were now torn open and dripping blood on the ground.

“Foolish,” Commander muttered. She turned to another. “Kaelin?”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Take Bevard. Get him cleaned up.”

Kaelin nodded, strong held the bleeding man, and pushed him through the throng of Seelies.

The Commander returned her attention to the Lightwoods. “Valentine is a threat. I will ensure that the Queen is aware of this.”

“We need to work together to defeat him. He has the Mortal Cup,” Isabelle said. “The only way we can defeat him is together; Shadowhunters, Seelies, Werewolves, Warlocks, and Vampires.”

The Commander appeared amused. “You truly believe you could unite the Downworld against a common enemy?”

“Yes.”

“It has never been done in my lifetime,” The Commander said. “Werewolves and Vampires despise each other, an instinct at the core of their being.”

“And yet they worked together and helped us rescue Meliorn,” Clary said.

Even with the case behind her, Isabelle shot Clary a dark look for bringing it up- especially in front of her mother.

“That is true,” Meliorn said, looking at his Commander.

“Interesting.” The Commander looked up, stared at the Hotel Dumort. “After this, do you think Rafael would come to the table?”

“Yes,” Clary said.

“And you believe the Werewolves would work with you again?”

“Luke is the head of the pack, he’s the only father I’ve ever known, he’ll help,” Clary insisted.

“Clearly the Shadowhunters are committed.” She glanced at Alec. “And the Warlocks.”

“Magnus will help,” Alec said with certainty. “I’m not sure how many warlocks he knows but, he’ll do everything to help us.”

The Commander nodded. “Set up the meeting,” she said to Alec. “Send the time and place in a fire message to Meliorn,” she said to Isabelle. She smirked over Clary’s head at Maryse, and Alec got the impression she enjoyed going over the Institute leader’s head. “I’ll speak with the Queen.” With that she turned. “We return to our Realm at once.”

The Seelies disbursed until only Meliorn and the Commander remained standing there. The Commander smiled. “Times are changing.” With that, she pivoted with unnatural grace, and walked off.

Meliorn watched for a second, a look of confusion on his face. He took a deep breath, nodded toward Isabelle, and then followed in his Commander’s footsteps.

As they finally were out of view, the Shadowhunters let out a collective sigh.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I've been slower at updating than a turtle tip-toeing through peanut butter.

In the middle of the field, Isabelle’s idea, the small group of Shadowhunters and Magnus waited. Alec stood close to his boyfriend, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of the Seelies, or Werewolves, the Vampires were still limited by the light. The light floral scent of the nearby gardens gave a sense of peace and serenity. Alec’s arm touched Magnus’s. He didn’t move, but caught Magnus’s smile.

“The sun will be down soon,” Jocelyn said, lips pressed in a tight line.

“I don’t like this,” Maryse said, hand tightening around her weapon.

“None of us do,” Alec replied.  A gathering of the leaders of the Downworld almost surely would spell disaster, not to mention they were in the middle of a field with no cover.

“Speak for yourself,” Isabelle had her hip cocked, and a confident smirk upon her lips. “Imagine if we actually pull this off. A truce between the fractions of the Shadowworld!”

Magnus sighed softly. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, and don’t be so sure of your Seelie friends. Meliorn might be reasonable. The Commander still serves the Queen, and she’s a cruel creature.”

“You’re one to speak of cruelty, Warlock,” Maryse muttered.

“Mother,” Alec’s voice was sharp in warning but he managed to keep his anger on a leash. This was neither the time, nor the place.

“There’s Luke and Alaric,” Clary said excitedly. She cast a smile Alec and Izzy’s way. “Told you he’d come.”

“I didn’t doubt him,” Alec said, eyes flicking toward Jocelyn. Of course Luke would come to aid Clary, but Jocelyn was finally out of the Institute for a change. All hands on deck, and they meant it. The last of the natural light faded from the sky and they were left with the soft glow from the old styled lanterns that lined the path.

“Didn’t think there would be so many Shadowhunters,” Alaric grumbled as the two werewolves approached.

“They’re our allies,” Luke insisted, smiling at Jocelyn. Her hand reached out, and his fit in her grasp as they shared a smile.

Alaric frowned, his eyes glowing as he looked past the group. “Seelies.”

The Shadowhunters turned. The regal queen walked with a peculiar elegance, her long red hair spilling in waves down to her waist. The layers of light translucent fabric that made her whimsical dress was a harsh contrast to the structured leather and metal the Commander wore. Meliorn walked on the other side of the Queen, and several other Emerald Knights marched behind her. They came to a full stop a respectful distance away.

“Tick tock,” The Queen studied her long pink nails. “I have no patience for lateness.”

“The sun just set,” Clary said. While the comment was reasonable, every other Shadowhunter stiffened. No one talked back to the Queen.

The Queen’s eyes narrowed on Clary. “If you were in my court I’d have your tongue.”

Alec looked to Clary to find she’d already been tucked away behind Luke and Joselyn. He’d known this wouldn’t go well.

“But we are not in court.” Everyone held their breath as their attention shifted from the wrathful Queen to the Commander.

“No. We are not,” the Queen snarled. Her attention momentarily shifted. “The Night Children are here.”

“We had nothing to do with your dead,” Raphael said as he approached, sounding bored, and completely unaffected by the Queens unblinking stare. Alec was surprised to see Simon, with Raphael, and a few other Vampires the Institute had files on.

“That is what has been alleged, yet there is no evidence,” the Queen said.

 “It was the work of Valentine,” Isabelle insisted. “And together, we can stop him.”

“So you say, little Shadowhunter,” the Queen’s sapphire eyes shifted Isabelle’s way. “People like to say things. It doesn’t make them true. My dead are drained of blood.” Those eyes turned to Raphael. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t have my honoured guard cut your heart out.”

“Because you’re smarter than that,” Raphael said, still looking disinterested, as if he had absolutely no fear of the Queen, the Commander, or her guard. “If we’re all at war with each other, we’re not addressing the real problem.” He glanced over at Simon, an almost bitter sigh leaving his lips. “And Valentine is the problem.”

“Can we all agree on that?” Luke asked.

“Of course,” Maryse agreed.

“Yes,” Magnus said.

With the other fractions agreeing it all hinged upon the Seelie Queen, who appeared to take much glee in smiling and saying, “No.”

“You must understand that Val-“

“That the _Shadowhunter_ is a threat?” The Queen cut Isabelle off. “So I hear. Even if he is, we Seelie’s know how to bide our time. Thus far, there is no evidence he is after us at all.” Isabelle made to argue, despite the sharp shake of Meliorn’s head, but the Queen held her hand up to silence her before she could even speak. “Not. My. Problem.” With that, she turned on her heel, and paused after one step when the Commander didn’t follow. “Áine?”

“I request permission to stay,” Commander Áine said. “Regardless of the refusal of our support, their actions could still have consequences for us.”

The Queen spared her a glance. “Observe and report. Nothing more.” She walked off with the guard, while Meliorn stayed at the Commander’s side.

::

The Seelie’s had refused aid, and yet Alec still hadn’t imagined the night going so well. Luke and Raphael shot barbed words at one another, but Simon stood between them like some silent reminder of mutual ground. Portal magic still warmed the air as Warlocks answered Magnus’s call to arms. Bryn along with a group of her Shadowhunters came to talk strategy. More Vampires came. The rest of the Luke’s pack showed up.

Even though the Queen had refused help, the Commander pointed out flaws in strategy. “None of it really matters though.” The large group suddenly shifted all of its attention to her. She shrugged, the movement almost magical. “No one knows where he is.”

“He’s in the water, somewhere,” Maryse said.

“I could try tracking him again,” Magnus offered. “It’s a long shot though.”

“Better luck with the mermaids,” The Commander stated.

“I thought the Fair Folk were sitting this one out,” Raphael said with a sneer. A panicked expression flashing over Simon’s face.

“The Queen said it was not her problem,” the Commander said. “My problem is the apparent threat to the court.” For a moment, a look of shocked approval crossed Raphael’s features.

“She said ‘observe and report,’” Meliorn hissed. “ _Nothing more.”_

“I am observing, I will report.” The Commander’s hands clasped over the hilt of her rapier. “And I believe that last part was more of a suggestion.”

“How much trouble will you get into for helping us?” Isabelle asked softly.

“Its treason,” Meliorn snarled, he managed to look angry and terrified at the same time.

“And the punishment is death,” Magnus whispered.

“Doing nothing does not serve my Queen, nor the court,” the Commander said. “I am honour bound to serve both. I believe the Lightwoods when they say that Valentine is the real culprit, don’t you, Meliorn?” He nodded. “And he has the Mortal Cup.”

“I know that,” Meliorn argued.

“Then he must be stopped,” the Commander snarled. “Go. Speak with the mermaids. And yes, that is in order, don’t get creat-“

A scream cut her off. It took Alec a second to realize it was his own. The pain struck him violently, and he fell to his knees. He sucked in a breath and it burned all the way down. Hands touched him, rolling him onto his back, and he convulsed.

“The rune-“ Isabelle’s voice came through the fog.

No.

_No._

**_No._ **

This couldn’t be Jace.

This unimaginable pain couldn’t be coming from the bond.

It couldn’t be the bond fraying.

It couldn’t.

He couldn’t bear it.

Stars. A lit sign. Ripples of water. A watch, his Parabatai’s watch, the clock set hours from now. Alec’s name being called, and Alec shouted for Jace in turn.

And then it was over.

The fog lifted, and he could breathe again.

“Alec?” Maryse said. “Was it Jace?”

Slowly, Alec nodded, and immediately regretted the movement. His hand went to the rune, it felt warm, but… intact. “He… he tracked me, but not because he wanted to find me.” He sucked in a breath, still feeling lightheaded. He reached blindly, and Magnus’s hand found his. “He wanted me to find him.”

“Do you know where he is?” Clary asked.

“Yeah, there was a sign, for a club by the lake.” With Magnus’s assistance, he managed to sit up, even though he leaned heavily against the other man. “Jace had set his watch forward two hours and twenty three minutes. I think that’s when they leave. That’s our window.”

“That’s not a lot of time to prepare,” Luke said warily. “Especially when Valentine has the cup.”

“It might be our only chance,” Jocelyn said. “If he really is my Jonathon…”

“We’re getting him back,” Clary said. “And we are stopping Valentine.”

“Meliorn, gather our brothers and sisters,” the Commander smiled. “We’re going to battle.”

“Áine, you’re going to get yourself killed,” Meliorn pleaded. “Reconsider.”

“No,” the Commander replied simply. “And there will be no recourse on your actions as you’re duty bound to follow me. So do it. This will protect our people. This is what is right.” Meliorn sighed, but turned and walked off. Her attention shifted to Isabelle. “It looks like you will get your truce after all… for however long it lasts.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Waves crashed against the sides of the trucks which were floating on the water thanks to the Warlocks, who were also busy taking down the many wards around the ship. Water sprayed up and dampened Alec’s clothes, skin, and hair. He stood a few steps back from Magnus, allowing him to work his magic. Clary and Simon were to his left, Isabelle and Bryn to his right.

“Almost through,” Magnus said turning, his eyes meeting Alec’s. “Be ready. I’ll get you as close as I can.”

“Alec! Above us!” Clary shouted and pointed skyward.

Cursing under his breath, he notched an arrow and let it fly into the heart of the flying demon. “Not good.”

“Archers!” the Commander’s voice boomed. “Fire at will!”

Hundreds of arrows were fired, and dozens of those demons fell to the water. “Remind me not to piss off the Seelies,” Simon muttered.

“One should never be dumb enough to do that in the first place,” Alec replied.

He glanced over to the school bus that floated beside them. There were Shadowhunters and werewolves inside. Standing on top were a few of the Northern Shadowhunters armed with bows, and a couple of Seelies, some with their wings out and fluttering.

The truck pulled up next to a long ladder that ran the height of the ship. Alec paused with his hands on the first rails. He glanced back at Magnus, whose brow was pinched in concentration. He wanted to say something, to do something, but everything felt like a final goodbye. Instead, he ignored the sense of foreboding, and started to climb.

::

Out of arrows, Alec switched to his Seraph blade. While skilled with the bowstaff, it took too long to send Demons back to hell that way. He tried to keep eyes on Clary, but had lost her at some point in the battle. He saw his parents at a distance, fighting like they were Parabatai. His rune warmed once again, and he slashed the nearest demon with his blade.

He had to find Jace. They had to stop Valentine and retrieve the cup.

Simon landed on his ass a few feet away but managed to keep his own bow in hand.  With his incredible vampire reflexes, he was back on his feet. He notched another arrow before the demon swiped, however it was Raphael who took the blow.

Raphael, who Alec hadn’t even seen run in to protect one of his own. “Damn it.” He took care of the demon in front of him, but knew he wouldn’t make it in time before the demon’s jaws took hold.

A swipe of brown, green, red, and gold, and the demon hissed and slunk back, preparing to strike again. The Commander Áine stood defiant, her ichor soaked rapier in hand. Alec joined her in battle. The two had different styles; Alec’s blunt, but flawless form, Áine moving fluidly as if battle were a dance. She spun and tucked down, slicing low on the demon’s form. Alec sliced in a high arch, cutting its throat. As one, the struck upward, swords buried in flesh for a moment before swiftly removing their weapons and watching the demon burn. “Well fought, Alec Lightwood,” Áine complimented.

Later, he’d have to remember to be flattered. For now, his wounded ally was his concern. He turned his attention to Simon and Raphael. “How is he?”

“This is too much blood,” Simon said, trying to stem it. “I can’t get it to stop. If I could get it to stop, and have him drink, but…” He looked around, wide eyed and panicked. “Why isn’t he healing?”

“Demon venom in the claws,” Alec said, staying alert, but crouching down. The last thing they needed was to lose the head of the clan. They were unlikely to get such an ally again. Next leader might be another like Camille.

Simon turned to him, desperate. “What do I do?”

“Silent Brothers won’t help. Maybe one of the Warlocks…” Alec said, grimacing. “I don’t know how well magic will work on a Vampire though.” It wasn’t a topic brought up in the Shadowhunter’s education. There were plenty of things the Clave hid, and probably plenty more that they didn’t know in the first place.

“Warlocks willing to help are keeping the wards down, and our escapes afloat. They can’t deal with wounded,” Áine sounded almost pained as she stepped away just long enough to stab through a small approaching demon. “We have to leave him.”

“No,” Simon replied immediately. “We’re not just leaving him here to die. He needs blood-“

“He needs his system purged of the Demon venom,” Alec said softly. “We don’t have the kind of blood that would take.”

Simon glared. “He can take mine.”

“It won’t be enough. Even if he took it all, it wouldn’t be enough,” Alec insisted. “Don’t sacrifice yourself for a lost cause.”

“Demons incoming,” Áine warned.

Alec and Simon both picked up their bows, and taking an arrow from Simon’s quiver, they both shot, arrows hitting home, the demon curled in on itself. Áine, with her endless grace and swift brutality took care of the other one. “We must return to the main battle, Alec Lightwood. Our goal is clear.”

Alec’s hand tightened on his bow. “Do you know of anything that can be done for him?”

Áine raised a brow. “You’re asking me?”

‘Yes.”

“We need Raphael,” Alec said. “If we win, it means nothing if we don’t have a vampire to sign the truce.”

“There are other vampires.”

“He’s like this because of me,” Simon said, somehow managing to be heard above the screaming, and fighting. “He’s dying because he protected me. If you know how to help him, then tell me! Please!”

Áine stared at Simon for a long minute, entirely emotionless. “Alec Lightwood, return to battle.”

“What?”

“I’ll help the Vampires,” Áine said as though it pained her. “Return to battle, where you belong.” She turned to Simon. “And you. You will never speak of this. Understand?”

Alec saw Simon nod. He took one last look at Simon with Raphael, and Áine looking like a goddess of battle standing beside them. Her eyes narrowed at him, and he swore, for just a minute, they flashed gold. He nodded her way; an understanding, an unspoken thanks. With that, he charged back into the worst of the battle.

::

Damn it!

Clary Fray brought danger with her wherever she went.

_Of course._

She was just as prone to such things as Jace.

Alec sucked in a breath now that he finally could. That fall through the floor of the upper deck had knocked the air out of him. “What in the Angel’s name was that, Clary!” he shouted at her.

“A rune,” she groaned as she rolled onto her hands and knees. Reaching out, her delicate hands grabbed her Stele.

“Yeah. I noticed,” Alec replied, getting to his feet.

“We were surrounded,” she said. “Now we’re not.”

“Because we fell,” he looked up. Two floors, not one. He glared at her again. “Now we’re away from the battle.”

“Which is fine,” Clary insisted. “We need to find Jace.”

“And the cup,” Alec said. As much as he wanted- needed to find his Parabatai, it would all be for nothing if Valentine got away with the cup and could once again build a Shadowhunter/ Demon army.

The two worked their way, clearing out sections of the ship. Not an easy task with the Shadowhunter army. None of them had nearly enough training for Alec to find them a problem individually, however they had the kind of numbers that made them incredibly dangerous.

They moved stealthily as possible, the metal of the old ship made it difficult. With Soundless runes at least their footsteps had stopped echoing. Alec touched Clary’s arm, and she stopped. He pointed down the hall. She frowned, and must have heard the same thing he did. Approaching footsteps. He motioned for them to go back the way they came, but her eyes widened and she pointed that way. Together they stayed completely still. The noise was coming from both directions.

As freshly made Shadowhunters showed up at both ends of the hall, they stood back to back, swords up.

“This is bad,” she said, effectively ending the use of the Soundless rune.

Shadowhunters approached from both sides. _Seven, eight, nine,_ Alec kept counting, his stomach sinking. “Any ideas?”

Her Stele in one hand, a Seraph blade in the other. She dropped her blade and started drawing furiously on the wall. The metal seemed to melt. On the other side a long drop down to a mechanical room. He took a quick look down, and around the hole. Too far down of a fall to be survivable. She picked her blade back up. “Alec?” she whispered, shaking her head.

“Stop!” And all of them did pause. The one group, closest to Alec, parted. Through them, they could now see Valentine dressed in an immaculate suit.

Valentine flashed a smile. “Clarissa.”

Clary’s lips curled at the sound of her names off his lips. She raised her blade in defiance.

He took a step forward. “Put down your weapons.”

“Not a chance,” she hissed.

Valentine sneered. “We do this the easy way, which is you putting down your weapons and coming with me on your own. Or the hard way, where they overpower you, and kill the Lightwood boy. Your choice, Clarissa.”

Option number one; be captured by a madman. Option two; Clary with a madman, and being dead. _Great._ They couldn’t count on rescue, not in the belly of the ship. Not with the sound of battle above still managing to make it all the way down. Who knew what other tricks Valentine had up his sleeve. Clary’s shoulder sagged, and slowly she lowered her blade to the ground.

“Your Stele too, Clarissa.”

She looked near tears as she set down the Stele next to her blade.

Her response was so Clary. _Predictable._

“Don’t hurt him,” Clary demanded.

“Tell him to put his weapon down,” Valentine ordered.

“Alec,” she stood up. “We can’t fight our way out.”

“I know,” he said. He hugged her close, and slipped his Stele into her back pocket, hoping with her own on the floor they wouldn’t search her. With that he stepped back, and turned to glare at Valentine. “But if you think I’m going with you, you’re a fool. You think I don’t know I’m worthless to you? At best I’m a bargaining chip for you to hold over Jace, or Clary. I won’t be used against them.” He spared Clary one last look. “Be strong.”

And he stepped backward out the hole she’d created in the wall.

Clary screamed but Valentine’s men were on her immediately, she struggled against them. “Alec! Alec! Alec!” She screamed his name, but even over her own panic she heard the heavy metallic thud. The scream of grief tore from her throat and she bucked, and elbowed, and bit at the men. Hot tears streamed down her face as the screams echoed off the walls. “ALEC!”


	9. Chapter 9

Clary’s screams cut straight to Alec’s soul. He listened to them along with the footsteps of the guards pushing her along. They got quieter, but her screams never ended. He hung from the pipe he’d spotted during his initial inspection of the hole Clary had created. He looked down, and breathed a sigh of relief. If he’d actually taken that fall instead of his Seraph blade, he’d be dead for sure. He swung a little, until he had the momentum to get his hand back up on the ledge he’d stepped backward off of. Muscles strained as he pulled himself back up into the now empty hall.

The terror on Clary’s face in that split section before he jumped, was etched into his brain, and would haunt him every bit as much her grief stricken wails. The sounds of her cries were fading through the metal of the old carrier.

What now? First, he activated his Soundless rune again. The way he saw it, he had two options. Follow Clary’s screams, hope to stay far enough back to keep from being spotted. He figured it to be pretty likely that she’d be taken to wherever they were keeping Jace. The other option was to get back up to the deck and get some re-enforcements.

Neither plan was any good.

If he went in alone, he’d surely be far too outnumbered to be of much assistance.

If he got re-enforcements (a big if considering the number of demons), he might be too late getting back down.

He needed a plan, but everything was set up in Valentine’s favour. Jace had given him the time, and the place, and they’d managed the impossible task of getting the Downworlders to unite to fight the common enemy. He couldn’t fail him now. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement and quickly moved, pulling the handle of a dagger from his boot, the blade flashing to life. His sigh of relief was silenced.

Isabelle.

He nodded at her, and she to him as she approached silently despite the thick heeled boots she wore. She frowned, a raised eyebrow, and ran her hand down along her long hair.

They were used to speaking without speaking when missions called for it, and he knew she was asking about the whereabouts of Clary.

He made a ‘V’ shape with his fingers indicating Valentine, then pointed down the hall.

Her brow pinched, head nodded toward the hole in the metal.

He made the same gesture she had about hair indicating Clary again.

She nodded. Gestured back and forth between them and then indicated in both directions.

He pointed the way Valentine and his men had dragged Clary. When she started to walk, he stopped her with a quick hand on her arm. He then grabbed his own wrist in the signal for ‘enemy’ and then a circle with his fingers for ‘ten,’ twice.

She straightened out, and nodded, pulling something out of a glamour from her back. Simon’s quiver, there were several arrows left. He smiled a little, taking it gratefully. He wanted to ask about the Vampires, but they didn’t have the time. Together, the Lightwood children moved silently through the ship.

::

Alec stood in a small alcove as footsteps got closer. The space was tight, and he stood in front of his sister as it was the only way the both of them would fit, and he had the advantage of his dagger, where she needed more room with her whip. He attacked first, slicing the first of Valentine’s men, and swiftly kicked the other one back. Isabelle’s whip sizzled as it went through the air, and latched around the man’s arm, she gave a swift yank and pulled him onto her blade. She picked up his downed sword and tossed it to Alec.

He shoved the handle into his belt, and grabbed his bow, notching an arrow without thought. They moved silently through the underbelly. Murmurs guided their way, steadily getting louder. They rounded a corner, and Alec released the arrow, it hit the first guard in the heart, the man slowly slid down the wall. Isabelle’s whip wrapped around the second guard’s throat, silencing his cry. Alec shoved his dagger under the man’s ribs, the kill quick, and efficient. He laid the corpse down gently, worried about any unnecessary noise.

Without his stele, he had no way of activating his own runes, and instead pointed to Isabelle’s dormant Awareness rune. She bit her bottom lip and put both hands palms up. His shoulders dropped. Of course her Stele would also be missing. They had no way of knowing what was going on beyond the door. The voice of Valentine boomed, but it wasn’t possible to make out the words through the metal door.

He pressed his ear against the door. The other voice was sharp with anger, despite being much quieter. His heart pounded so hard he couldn’t hear anything beyond it. Reaching blindly, he grabbed his sister’s arm and squeezed, other hand over his Parabatai rune. Her eyes were wide, she understood.

Jace was on the other side of the door, and between them they had; a whip, two Seraph blades, a Seraph dagger, a bow, a quiver- with three arrows left, and only their activated runes since neither had their Stele in their possession anymore.

They were in the midst of a silent argument; Isabelle wanting to look for another way in, or search the bodies for a Stele, while Alec didn’t think they’d have any luck and shouldn’t waste time before barging through the door. As it turned out, their decision was never made, it never mattered.

Alec and Isabelle both froze as the horrible screeching sound started to come from everywhere. Isabelle’s eyes widened and she pointed over his shoulder. He turned to look, rusted bolts were slowly turning, he looked back to Isabelle, sure enough, the bolts on the other side were turning too.

Bolts flew in every direction, the two ducking. Water rushed down the halls even as the metal blew apart.

Before they knew what was happening, they were taking last breaths before becoming submerged, pushed apart by the violence of the ship coming apart. A heavy metal panel pushed Alec away from Isabelle. He couldn’t tell if he was getting closer to the surface, or going deeper. He risked opening his eyes to only find darkness.

His lungs demanded breath, and then did true panic set in. How horrible it would be to die like this; to survive the hordes of demons, to survive Valentine’s men, to have been so close to finding Jace only to die underwater. To die by the limitations of his lungs. He tried to push to the surface, but he couldn’t even be sure he was swimming in the right direction. His jeans were weighing his legs down and making his movements sluggish. Not to mention his right shoulder was killing him every time he moved it.

Lungs demanded air, and he fought the instinct to breathe. He’d swallow this water, and he’d drown. He could make it. Just a little farther. It had to be just a little bit further.

_I’m never going to see Magnus again._

He swam harder, violently denying the thought.

_I’m never going to see Magnus again._

His body convulsed, demanding he take a breath.

_I’m never going to see Magnus again._

He couldn’t fight his body anymore.

_I’m never going to see Magnus again._

Lightheaded, and disoriented he had only one thought as he lost that last breath, and water rushed in.

_I’m never going to see Magnus again._

::

Isabelle broke the surface, and sucked in great, gasping breaths, weak and exhausted, she could barely keep afloat. Simon was suddenly beside her, one strong arm around her waist. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, pulling her along as he swam on his back. At the truck, he helped pull her up, and over the tailgate. Sitting on the floor, her back against the cool metal, she shivered violently. She looked around, still trying to catch her breath. Raphael, and the Commander were sitting side by side, both looking absolutely exhausted, and dry, so clearly they hadn’t been on the ship when it blew.

“Simon,” she said a little desperate. “What happened?”

“No idea,” he replied. “The entire place just… came apart. I’ve never heard of anything like this happening.”

“Warlock could have done it,” Raphael muttered.

Isabelle looked over the side, it was hard to see much. The moonlight lit the heads of Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike still struggling in the water. “I was with Alec,” she said, trying to tell if any of those people were her brother, but she couldn’t see well enough.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Simon said, clearly trying to be reassuring.

“We… we were at the door.” Isabelle shoved back her heavy wet hair. “Valentine was in the room with Jace, and Clary. We heard them. I… I have to find them.”

Simon’s hand on her shoulder kept her from going far. “If you go back into the water, you’ll drown. Those who can still safely swim are helping, and there are mermaids.” He looked confused, as if he wasn’t entirely sure where his life had derailed so drastically. “He’s probably on another boa-truck already.”

“He is a good swimmer,” Isabelle said, trying to comfort herself.

“Izzy!”

Isabelle practically threw half her body over the side of the truck. “Dad!”

“Good to see you, kiddo.” Robert smiled, treading water. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. I was with Alec. We were outside the room with Valentine,” she said, relaying the information about Jace and Clary too. “I don’t know what happened to them. Or the Cup.”

“It’s okay,” he said, slightly distracted.

“What is it?” Isabelle demanded. “Where is Mom?”

“She’s on the other side, checking up on other Shadowhunters,” he said.

“Dad?”

“I haven’t seen any of them, Iz. Not Jace, Not Clary. Not Alec.”

“Do you have your Stele?” she asked.

Robert held onto the bumper and pulled his Stele out, handing it over to Isabelle. She traced over her Stamina rune, and let the cool rush wash over her. Feeling alert, her body tingling with adrenaline, she passed it back and stood up. Pausing, she grabbed Simon’s hand. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “Be careful.”

She nodded, stepping up on the side of the truck before diving back into the water.

::

Hands gripped the bumper of the truck, and Magnus’s ringed fingers wrapped around the dainty wrist, pulling the waif like figure from the water. The red hair had darkened to a muddy brown, but after pushing the hair from her face, Magnus saw Clary’s panicked green eyes. “Magnus,” she said his name with such a rush of relief. “Oh, _Magnus,_ ” just like that, his name changed from reverence, to grief, and the wail that leaves her lips chills him to the core.

He pulled her cold body to his chest, he hasn’t much magic left, but the wards were completely downed, and all he really has to semi-focus on is keeping the truck afloat. Even with his low magic, it’s a simple enough task. “It’s okay, Clary,” he said, rubbing her back. “It’s okay. It’s over.”

“It’s Alec,” she said. “Alec… he… he’s…I’m s-s-orry. I couldn’t s-s-s-top him.”

“Clary? What are you talking about?” Magnus felt ill, surely the girl couldn’t mean what he thought she meant.

“He wouldn’t l-l-let himself be taken.” Her breath shook as she sucked in a breath. “He’s dead.”

“No,” Magnus whispered, stepping back from Clary, afraid he’d hurt her. The truck shook with his violent denial. “No!”

Everything he’d felt for his Shadowhunter. Everything. Gone. Just like that.

No.

It couldn’t be.

They didn’t get enough time.

One date?

That’s it?

That was fate’s hand for them?

Hot tears burned his cheeks. “No.”

“Help!”

The voice in the water was familiar, but went ignored. Magnus dropped to his knees. _No. Not my Alexander. Please, not him._

“Jace, o-over here,” Clary said reaching over.

A sob escaped her lips. Magnus was too lost in his own grief to pay much attention.

“Magnus! Magnus, please. Get over here. We need you.”

He had a feeling by the time she caught his attention, she’d been calling him for a while. Shaking, with anger and grief, he still managed to crawl along the truck and lean over as she did. Jace’s blond hair hung low, and in his arms, he had Alec’s body cradled to his chest.

He did most of the lifting, finding strength in his grief. Laying him on his side, Magnus looked at the jagged piece of metal in Alec’s shoulder. Jace pushed him away with urgency, and Magnus shoved him back so hard, Jace’s legs hit the wall of the truck bed and he fell back out with a splash.

Soon enough, Jace was back in, furious, Isabelle at his back. “Move, Warlock!”

Magnus’s eyes flashed yellow. “Watch your tone, Shadowhunter.”

“We need to help him!” Isabelle said urgently.

“He’s dead,” Magnus and Clary both said.

“No, he isn’t,” Jace growled. “Now are you going to help me? Or get in my way?”

“But… I saw him, I saw him fall-“ Clary said, even as Magnus ripped out the shard, so they could lay him on his back and start CPR.

“He caught himself, dropped his Seraph blade, that’s what you must have heard,” Isabelle said softly.

Magnus hardly paid the girls any mind, he blew air into Alec’s lungs, watching as they raised only to have Jace press down in quick succession. “Come on, Alexander,” Magnus begged. “Please. Don’t do this to me.”

He pressed his lips firmly against Alec’s again, blowing air into his lungs, only to be violently pushed back but not before feeling warm water hitting his chin. Alec convulsed, Jace shoving him onto his side, as water evacuated his mouth. Suddenly, he was gasping for his own breaths.

“Alec!” Magnus tilted Alec’s face upward. He still looked in pain, but was alive.

_Alive._

::

A little confused, Alec looked up at Magnus. “Can… can we go now? I don’t like this rocking so much.”

Magnus gave a watery laugh. “Of course. Of course we can go.”

“Jace?”

“I’m here,” Jace said, reaching for Alec’s Stele as Clary passed it over.

Alec reached for Magnus’s hand, even as he looked over his shoulder at his Parabatai. “You okay?”

“You’re the one who tried to drink the lake,” Jace said as he drew an Iraze near the wound on Alec’s shoulder. Still, the blond Shadowhunter had a multitude of bruises, stories for another time. “I’m okay.”

He smiled at Isabelle, before looking over at Clary. “Sorry about that.”

“You terrified me.”

Alec winced. “I know.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Clary said.

“Kind of happy about that too,” Alec said. He tried to sit up, but both Jace and Magnus pushed him back down. “What about the cup?”

Clary smirked, and pulled a soggy card from the inside pocket of her jacket.

Alec managed a tired laugh. “Nice.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got really wordy. I was going to break it up, but decided against making people wait ;)

“Alec, Alec? Come on, open those eyes.” The thumb that swiped over his cheekbone in a soothing, repetitive motion coursed with just the slightest hint of magic. “Alec, please, you’re really starting to worry me.”

He was soaked to the bone, and laying on something uneven. His head pounded, and his shoulder ached, and burned with the healing rune. His stomach churned, and his mouth and throat felt like sandpaper. He wanted the sweet release of unconsciousness again. There was entirely too much noise around them. He moved his hand up to cup the one Magnus has on his cheek.

Alec felt the sigh of relief on his skin. “Alexander.”

He forced his eyes open and was blessed with the most beautiful sight. Magnus was illuminated by the moon and witchlight. His hair was askew, eyes unglamoured, the softest smile on his lips. “Magnus,” Alec whispered. His last thoughts underwater returned to him with force, and he surged up, claiming the man’s lips, threading his fingers through the streaked hair.

The suddenness left Magnus a second behind. A surprised sound left his lips before he caught up, tongue just brushing against Alec’s bottom lip, leaving the younger man breathless.

Someone cleared their throat. Alec growled his displeasure at being interrupted against Magnus’s lips. After a prolonged second, he released Magnus, and shifted back.

“Have _some_ decency, Alec,” Maryse scolded.

“Maryse,” Robert’s voice came as a low warning. He knelt down by Alec’s feet. “How are you feeling, kid?”

“I’m fine.” The response came automatically.

Robert’s eyes narrowed, a frown etched on his features. He looked ten years older than he had before he boarded the ship. Instead of taking Alec at his word, he glanced at Magnus with an eyebrow raised.

“He has a slight concussion. Magic on head trauma should only be a last resort. I’ve done what I can about the pain, but he keeps losing consciousness, and his memory since the ship is foggy,” Magnus calmly explained. “The Iratze has his shoulder knit up, it stopped bleeding a while ago.”

Robert looked from Magnus to Alec, and back again. “Mind watching him?” He looked over to the shoreline. “They keep pulling in more of our dead.”

“I’ll keep him safe,” Magnus promised.

Robert nodded and stood, he glanced briefly at his wife, before treading over the large stones of the shore toward the water. Maryse shook her head, and followed her husband.

“My memory must be foggy,” Alec whispered. “I don’t…” He looked to the water trying to remember how he got to the surface. “I remember feeling hands under the water.  I had already run out of air, but the hands came with this feeling like… everything would be okay. I…”

“It’s okay,” Magnus insisted, hand threading through the young man’s hair. “You’ve passed out three times since we’ve pulled you from the water.” Magnus smirked. “Each time you seem very happy to see me.”

Alec frowned a little. “I didn’t think I would.” Magnus’s brow creased, and he put a little space between them. Alec pulled him back gently, and rested his head against Magnus’s shoulder.  “When I was underwater, I couldn’t break the surface. I-I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Oh, Alec,” Magnus whispered, wrapping his arms around the Shadowhunter.

Alec shifted so he could kiss the column of Magnus’s neck. “It was all I could think. I tried.” He kissed Magnus’s neck again. “I swear I tried to come back to you.”

Magnus’s arms tightened around him. “Shh, I know, I know. You did come back to me, my beautiful angel.”

Shifting, Alec’s lips found Magnus’s once again. They shared in languid kisses that were almost like a sigh of relief.

Suddenly Alec pulled back. “Hands.”

A little dazed, Magnus raised a brow. “What?”

“Hands. Hands!” Alec said a little excitedly.

Magnus’s hand, lit with a blue glow raised to assess Alec’s head, but Alec impatiently swatted it away. Clumsily, he tried to get to his feet, nearly tripping, but Magnus was quick to steady him. The two stood on the uneven ground, Magnus staring up at Alec who looked around wildly. “What is it?”

“Hands,” he said again, searching the coast. “The- the-the hands from underwater.”

“You’re shivering,” Magnus said calmly, however worried he was about the chattering teeth. He put an arm around Alec, trying to pull him closer. “We need to get you warm.”

Instead, Alec pulled away, clearly on a mission. Magnus stayed alongside him, keeping him upright. In the darkness, on the verge of unconsciousness, Alec knew just who found him underwater. Perhaps, the only person who could have. His brother, his Parabatai. He saw the outline near the water, the darkness gave nothing away, but Alec knew.

His clumsy footsteps caught his Parabatai’s attention, and the man turned. “Jace,” Alec breathed the word like it’s the only oxygen he needed. He let go of Magnus and practically collapsed into Jace’s arms. The two men held on tight, desperate, and needy.

“You saw me like twenty minutes ago,” Jace said, as if trying to make light of the situation, but there was far too much relief in his voice, and strength in his grip, to make it believable.

“What?” Alec didn’t recall. He pulled back just enough to see Jace’s face, frowning at the bruises. “What happened to you?”

“I’ll explain it all later,” Jace promised. “For now-“

“Jace!” Clary’s shrill cry caught their attention.

“By the Angel-,” Jace turned toward Clary, and without a single thought, Alec followed.

Clary stood hip deep in water, taking a rune covered body from a mermaid, and dragging it toward shore. “Mom?” she said, as she dragged. “Can you hear me? Mom!”

“Damn it,” Magnus pushed past and knelt down next to the prone form. “Jocelyn, can you hear me?” Magnus’s hands hover over the woman, and Alec could tell the toll the night had taken on Magnus. His magic was the faintest blue, and his face was pinched in concentration.

“That’s a lot of blood,” Raphael’s voice made Alec jump. He hadn’t noticed the vampire, nor the Seelie Commander next to him.

One look at Clary’s panicked face, and Alec decided, crouching down behind Magnus, a hand on his neck. “Use my energy.”

“That’s kind of you,” Magnus whispered. “However, you are running far too low yourself.”

“Mine then,” Jace demanded.

“Also too low, and before you ask, Clary, you’re all too exhausted to be any help to me.” Magnus looked around, looking for someone with a suitable source of energy.

“Use mine,” the Commander said coming forward and kneeling beside Magnus.

Alec studied Magnus’s profile as he stared at Áine. “You’re also exhausted-“

“I know. I’m also going to be sentenced to death whenever my Queen arrives,” she said, holding out her hand.

“You can’t be serious, we struck a blow against Valentine-“ Alec was cut off by her cool glare.

“And I ordered an army against the Queen’s orders. I knew the consequences of my actions then,” she turned to Magnus, her hand extended, “as I do now.”

“You could still run,” Magnus warned, his hand hovering over Áine’s.

Instead, she clasped her hand with his, holding tight. He gave a nod of understanding, and set to work on Jocelyn.

::

Alec stood shoulder to shoulder with Jace. The Parabatai bond stronger than it had been since Clary had shown up and thrown their world off balance. Hell, it might be stronger than the day they’d sworn their lives to one another. The Iratze burned just a little, but it worked, his shoulder felt the heat, but no longer the extreme pain. His head had stopped spinning, although he would kill for a steak and fries, and a full day of sleep.

Side by side, they watched Magnus work on Jocelyn. Clary drew the Iratze on her mother when the flesh had knit enough to do so.

“You’re exhausting yourself,” Áine scolded. “Take my energy. It’s not going to be of use to me. Yours will be called upon soon. There are too many wounded, and too few Warlocks willing to help.”

Magnus frowned as he looked at the Seelie Commander. “I _am_ drawing from you.”

She scoffed. “Draw from my _magic,_ Warlock.”

His brow pinched. “Seelie magic is unpredictable.”

“For someone who doesn’t know how to wield it.” Áine frowned. “I can’t heal her, you can. I have no desire to hurt her, thus my magic will not cause her harm. However, to heal, my magic must flow through you.”

Magnus frowned, but nodded. He knew little about Seelie magic- for the winged creatures kept their gifts close to heart. What he did know, however, was that most of their magic was for tricks of the eye, glamours and the sort. There were cases of their magic being destructive, when the being was powerful enough, however he’d never once heard of a Seelie being able to heal with their magic. Although it made him nervous to use another’s magic- something he wouldn’t even be comfortable doing with another warlock, he knew it was his only chance to heal Jocelyn. And so he shifted, pulling from her magic rather than her energy. His usual blue flamed magic appeared lined with green and hints of gold sparks. The two remained kneeled by Jocelyn, hands clasped, the flames around Magnus’s hands grew, and Jocelyn gasped. Magnus drew back, eyes wide, shocked at how quickly the healing had moved after drawing from the Seelie.

Clary practically jumped into her mother’s awaiting arms. “Mom, you’re okay.”

“Y-yes, it would appear so,” Jocelyn glanced over at Magnus. “I guess I have you to thank for that.”

Magnus opened his mouth but only gasped. His attention diverted to Áine, and Alec caught the pain in his love’s profile. “You’re crushing my hand,” Magnus snarled.

Immediately, it was released. Áine stood, rocked in her stance a moment, before Raphael’s hand steadied her. “She’s here.”

No one asked her who she meant. _They knew._

“We’ll distract her,” Jace said.

“Apparently, you are the one I owe my life to,” Raphael said coolly. “And I have questions.”

“No.” Áine turned to them. “Stay out of this.” Her eyes narrowed at Raphael. “And I didn’t save you to have you get killed or start a war. You owe me, right? Stay. Out. Of. It.”

With that, she walked toward the incoming Seelie force.

“We have to do something,” Simon said softly.

“Our hands are tied,” Raphael snarled.

Alec helped Magnus to his feet, but didn’t let go of his hand. He wanted to do something for Áine. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t cause an incident. One look around and he saw the bulk of the forces had stopped to watch. Seelies were bursts of energy, reacting to the presence of their Queen, and to the conflict. Vampires were still, and calculated as they slowly moved closer to their clan leader. The Werewolf pack was in two groups. One group in their human form tending to wounded. Another group snarled at the Queen, but were far enough back that it didn’t threaten their co-existence.

“You have clearly forgotten your place in this hierarchy as you dared to disobey me!” The Queen’s voice carried, and the Seelies slowly shifted closer to the conflict between her and the Commander.

“I am duty bound to the court,” Áine replied. “As are you. Perhaps it is you who forgot your place.”

The Seelies were buzzing with so much energy that even Alec could feel it. “Magnus, what is happening?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen or heard of such a public display of their politics,” Magnus whispered.

“No, the other Seelies-“

“I feel it too,” Raphael said.

“Yeah,” Jace breathed. “It’s magic, right?” He glanced at Magnus. “Is it dangerous?”

The Queen’s order cut off any reply. “Remove your armour, Traitor!”

Meliorn cut from the group of Seelies, and approached them. “Where is Isabelle?” He asked, even as he looked over his shoulder to see Áine unbuckling the golden armour on her sword arm.

“She’s fine,” Alec said. Then pausing to check the validity of that statement with Magnus.

Magnus nodded. “She was helping the injured last I saw.”

“Tell her… Ask her…” Meliorn looked torn. He looked back over his shoulder where Áine removed the last of her armour. “The Queen will be pulling back forces. We won’t be able to assist further. I-I won’t…”

“Your sword.” The Queen’s voice resonated. “Remove it. You are _unworthy._ ”

“Meliorn!” Isabelle’s voice was a little breathless as she joined them. She pulled the Seelie into a tight embrace. “Tell me she wo-“

“Listen,” Meliorn insisted, his hands on her shoulders keeping her at arms-length. “I can’t do anything for her.” He grimaced, thinking of his friend. “You know our customs-“

Isabelle shook her head. “We can stop this.”

“Nothing can stop this. Please-“

“Kneel,” The Queen’s voice held her mirth.

Áine stood strong for a moment, but slowly, she knelt.

“You knew what would happen,” the Queen said, pressing Áine’s own sword to her heart.

“And I still served the Court.”

The Queen ‘tisked’. “You disobeyed.”

“Yes, I disobeyed your order of _cowardice.”_

The fluttering of wings, and the Seelies shouted, there were those who supported their Queen, but a rising number who were shouting for Áine. With a roar of anger, the Queen struck and the rapier struck through Áine’s heart.

There was a collective gasp through the air. Alec’s hand tightened around Magnus’s.

Meliorn turned to Isabelle, pain clear on his face before it was smoothed into a neutral expression. “Take care of her.”

“We leave this ground. Now.” The Queen shouted. The Seelies were silenced, gone was the buzzing of wings, pulse of magic, and the shouting. Their silence spoke volumes.

Isabelle grabbed Meliorn’s hand. “Stay.”

“I _can’t._ ” Meliorn cast her one last forlorn look, and fell in line with other Seelies abandoning the battle grounds. He walked past Áine’s body, sparing only a second of a glance.

::

It took hours to clear the battlefield. There are dozens of dead Shadowhunters, a few Werewolves didn’t make it. There are a couple of vampires unaccounted for. With the mermaids now refusing aid, there was likely to be bodies at the bottom of the lake, never to be found. Those with lesser injuries helped those with worse ones.

Alec sat, exhausted on a boulder. Magnus had been healing those with the most grievous of wounds, but now dropped down heavily beside him.

“I didn’t do anything,” Alec whispered.

Magnus took his hand. “You’ve done plenty.”

“I let Clary be taken,” he said, voice still soft in his contemplation. “I stood outside of the door where Valentine had my Parabatai and friend. I stood back and watched a warrior be executed for no good reason.” Alec shook his head. “I should have-“

“While I don’t know what happened inside of that ship, I’m sure you did everything you could at the time. And Áine said it herself, there was nothing to be done in her situation. However, I do understand your pain. I… I saw only goodness in the Commander, a genuine kindness unusual in Seelies. Ruthlessness in battle, of course, one does not become Commander without shedding some blood.” Magnus shook his head. “But to have died on her knees at the hand of her Queen- it was wrong.” He tightened his grip on Alec’s hand. “I too wish that something could have been done. Now, all that we can do is give her the traditional Seelie rights.”

Alec looked past Magnus, to where Isabelle kneeled in a patch of blood, a blanket over the body she sat with. Surprisingly, she was not alone. Simon stood beside her, and Raphael beside him.

The crunching of small stones under boots alerted them to Jace’s approach. “Maryse is heading back to the Institute,” Jace said, wiping dirt on his black cargo pants. “Robert is staying in case there are more survivors.”

Alec nodded, too tired to do much more.

“Isabelle wants to take the Commander somewhere safe to perform some… Seelie death ritual thing. Raphael volunteered the Hotel Dumort,” Jace said. “But we’re getting close to sun-up.”

Magnus nodded at the unasked question. “I’ll portal them.” He stood, never letting go of Alec’s hand.”

::

In a candlelit room within the Hotel Dumort, Raphael gently laid Áine’s body down on crisp white sheets. Not yet rigid, nor cold, it could almost be imagined that she was asleep. That is, if one could ignore the blue tinged lips, wings that had become as dry and brittle as leaves in the fall, and the blood that stained her white gambeson. Isabelle fussed with the Commander’s hair, the various sized braids, and long straight strands.

“How can I help?” Magnus asked her, and Alec felt a rush of gratitude that Magnus would help his sister.

“Butterflies are for mourning,” she whispered.

“Ah, the traditional curtains,” Magnus said with a wave of his hand and the deep red curtains were replaced by gauzy white ones with muted-coloured butterflies.

Isabelle pulled out her dagger. “I have to remove her wings and burn them.”

Raphael gently pulled Áine’s body upright, and Isabelle’s hand shook as the blade paused near the Commander’s shoulder.

“I can do it, if you want,” Alec offered in a whisper meant only for his sister’s ears.

She shook her head. “Meliorn asked this of me,” she replied. “It feels so wrong though, like I’m desecrating a body.”

“The wing removal is important,” Magnus informed. “After death they become brittle, and fall apart when touched. Even like that, Seelie wings are much sought after. The Seelies burn them because Warlocks can use them in spells.”

Isabelle took a deep breath, and cut into the wing, blade meeting immediate resistance. “It’s like bone.”

“Their wings are stronger than they look,” Magnus said. “Usually they’re removed by a ceremonial blade- kept in the court, and used for just this purpose.”

“Any other ideas?” Jace asked, dark circles prominent under his eyes.

“Burn them off,” Raphael offered. “They’ve got to be burned anyway.”

“May I?” Magnus asked Isabelle, who reluctantly nodded.

With a great deal of focus, and starting at the ends of her wings he burned upward. The translucent, gauzy effect of her wings burnt easily, the harder bits at the top burned slow, and when he stopped the flame, the charred bits mostly fell away, leaving grotesque holes where one could see the bone of her shoulder. Magnus magicked away the mess, and Raphael laid her back down.

Isabelle took a deep breath. “White is for burials.”

Alec found it odd as a Shadowhunter who used white for weddings.

With a wave of Magnus’s hand, Áine was dressed in a full length, gauzy white gown, although there was chainmail over the shoulders of the dress. He shrugged at Isabelle’s look. “I thought it fitting.”

“It is,” she replied. “I wish Meliorn could be here. He didn’t speak of the Commander frequently, but enough that I knew they were close. It should be him to sit the candlelight vigil.”

“The candles, I can help with,” he said, and with a wave of his hand, there were white pillar candles on every available surface. “However, when it comes to Meliorn… that I cannot help you with,” Magnus said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Isabelle nodded. “I know. And thank you. For everything. Will you come back for me in a day? I will need some help then.”

“Of course,” Magnus replied. He turned to Alec. “As much as I’d love for you to come to the loft, I imagine with all that has happened you will need to return to the Institute.”

Alec nodded, lips pressed into a hard line. He didn’t like it, but especially with Isabelle staying at the hotel, he would need to debrief with his parents, like many of the other Shadowhunters. Besides, his Parabatai looked dead on his feet, and there were so many questions that needed answers. “We’ll get a cab.”

Magnus’s eyes unglamoured for a flash. “The hell you will,” he said. He casted a portal, and turned back to Jace and Alec. “One way ticket to the New York Institute. All aboard.”

Jace gave quiet thanks, before walking through. Alec, however, turned to Magnus. He needed to say something, but wasn’t sure what, or how. There were no words equal to his gratitude. Instead, he kissed the warlock lightly, trying to communicate in action what he couldn’t put into words. “Breakfast tomorrow? Things should have calmed a little by then.”

“I’d love to,” Magnus whispered back against Alec’s lips.

Alec took a step back, and looked over at Raphael and Simon. “Nothing better happen to my sister while we’re gone.”

“No harm shall befall her,” Raphael promised. “You have my word.”

::

The Parabatai duo sat on one of stone garden walls in the Institute’s greenhouse. The figured it was the last place anyone would look for them. It was nearly two in the afternoon, and they were both exhausted. Neither had gotten any sleep since they’d just debriefed with Robert and Maryse, who dismissed them before Inquisitor Herondale could come in and question them some more. After quick warm showers, they were both in comfy sleep pants (they’d each gotten a pair from Isabelle the Christmas past), their hoodies removed in the heat of the greenhouse.

 _“He wanted me to rule with him,”_ Alec remembered Jace saying during the debriefing. _“I couldn’t let him hurt my family. I had to go.”_ And when asked about the bruises. _“I guess he didn’t like my sense of humour.”_ And when Alec had levelled him with a stare about the flippancy of the answer, he recalled the bone-weary sigh. “ _I disagreed, I disobeyed. Was ruined by things like; ‘principles,’ and ‘morals.’”_

“It was dangerous,” Alec said, breaking the silence between them.

“Going with Valentine?”

Alec huffed out a breath. “Yeah, that too, but I was talking about that reverse-Parabatai tracking.”

“I couldn’t think of another way to contact you,” Jace said. “I had to let you know where we were before it was too late. He had the cup.” He ran his hand through his blond hair, which had grown longer in the time he’d been away. “Are you angry?” Alec must have looked confused, because Jace clarified. “About the tracking thing. I mean, I could have severed the bond between us.” His thumb brushed over the rune that bound them, and Alec found himself doing the same thing.

Alec was shocked at the vulnerability in Jace’s voice. “No, I’m glad you did it. We might not have found you if you hadn’t. And Valentine.”

“It was dangerous, I didn’t know where you were, or what you were doing.” Jace frowned. “I could have gotten you killed, or severed the bond between us.”

“It had to be done,” Alec replied. “You’re my brother, my Parabatai. I trust you.”

“Alec?” Jace’s voice was ruined, and close to tears.

Shock ran through Alec’s system. “It’s okay,” he soothed, pulling Jace in for a hug, surprised by the force in which Jace hugged back. “You’re home.”

Although the words barely got through the choked sob, Alec heard them. “ _I did really bad things_.” He looked up, tears glistening in his dark eyelashes. “I swear on the Angel, I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t think of a way out.”

“Jace, it’s okay,” Alec said. “Just… tell me what happened.”

“He brought people back to the ship. Men and women. He had them drink from the cup. You know that’s now how it should work. The cup kills more people than it finds worthy.” Jace took a great gasp of air. “There were so many bodies.”

“He was using full grown adults,” Alec said. “They had a choice. This was Valentine’s doing. Not yours. He knew that most adults die when the cup is used. We all know the survival rate isn’t high, it’s higher with children-“

The sudden sob from Jace told Alec all he needed to know. “He used it on children too… didn’t he?”

Jace pulled away from the comfort and angrily wiped at his face. “When I saw them… I knew what he was going to do. I didn’t _do_ anything.”

Alec was learning the lesson that sometimes there was nothing you could do himself, and somehow it was worse than failure. “You were on a ship with a madman, and two armies. There was nothing you could have done.”

“They were just kids,” Jace whispered. “I don’t know where he got them. Some of them were crying for their parents.” He scratched at the old star-shaped scar on his shoulder. “I don’t know what happened to them. After they drank from the cup… if they survived… he took them somewhere. I didn’t see them on the ship after that, and I didn’t see any of them after the battle.”

“The wards surrounding the ship would have taken a very powerful Warlock,” Alec said. “He must be using one… if so, he could have had them portaled elsewhere. We didn’t find Valentine’s body, so one must assume he’s still alive somewhere.”

Jace considered it, pulling himself together, and Alec gave him time. Finally, Jace cleared his throat. “There was someone. A woman. I never saw her with a Seraph blade of any kind… I don’t… I don’t remember her drinking from the cup. I just figured she’d turned before Valentine took me aboard the ship.” He ran his hand through his hair. “She could have been a warlock.”

“We’re going to have to tell Mom,” Alec admitted begrudgingly.

“She’s going to hate me,” Jace whispered.

Alec snorted. “You’re her golden child,” he said while affectionately messing up Jace’s hair, forcing a half-grin to his Parabatai’s face. “She’ll be mad at the situation,” Alec insisted. “Not you.”

They heard the soft click of the door, mixed with quick footsteps. Clary came around the Hibiscus plant, and looked wide-eyed at them. Jace quickly looking in the other direction, desperately trying to wipe at his face. “The Inquisitor is coming.”

The warning she’d tried to give was little aid, as the door swung open yet again, louder this time. Multiple footsteps. Jace and Alec stood just as Maryse, Robert, Jocelyn, and Inquisitor Imogen Herondale rounded the same Hibiscus plant. “Skirting your duties, I see,” the Inquisitor sneered.

“Here we go,” Jace muttered under his breath.

“You’re coming with me to the Silent city,” the Inquisitor proclaimed.  

“He is not!” Maryse protested. “He’s done nothing wrong.”

“He was with Valentine!”

“A prisoner,” Maryse argued, stepping between the Inquisitor and her sons.

“He went willingly.”

“Then question him here,” Jocelyn said evenly. “There is no need to take the boy to the Silent City.”

“You should be stripped of your runes,” The Inquisitor looked Jocelyn over. “Or perhaps first, we should have you join your son in the Silent City.”

“I’ve already answered every question I’ve been asked,” Jace said.

“And you very well could have lied,” the Inquisitor stepped around Maryse.

Alec took a step forward, uncertain of what he would do in the face of the Inquisitor, but unwilling to back down. “He didn’t lie.”

“You once held such promise, Alexander Lightwood, but now you have dalliances with Downworlders, and a Parabatai who works for Val-“

“He doesn’t work for Valentine,” Alec snarled. “And I do not have _dalliances_ , Inquisitor.”

“Your word is worthless.” She might as well have slapped Alec for the reaction it had. With a superior grin on her face, she turned to Jace. “And you…” Her voice trailed, and Alec realized she wasn’t looking at Jace, so much as she was staring at his shoulder. “How did you get that?” she pointed to the star shaped scar.

Jace shrugged. “I don’t know. Had it for as long as I can remember. First you’re going to accuse me of being in league with ‘my father’,” he spat the words. “Now you’re going to ask about some old scar?”

“He’s not your father,” she whispered. “This… this can’t be.”

“What are you talking about?” Jocelyn asked.

She simply pushed the shoulder of her shirt down, displaying a matching mark. “All Herondale’s have one,” she said in quiet awe. “He is neither Wayland, nor Morgenstern. He’s… he’s a Herondale.”

Alec caught the simultaneous elation of Clary, and the distraught look on Jocelyn’s face. Everyone else looked as confused as Alec felt.

“What are you talking about?” Jace asked slowly.

“Stephen’s child,” Jocelyn whispered. “Celine was almost due when she…” A tear fell down her cheek. “Valentine must have…”

“Anyone want to fill in some blanks?” Jace asked, clearly agitated.

“When news of Stephen’s death came to Celine, she appeared to have committed suicide,” Imogen said.

“Appeared?” Maryse asked. “The official report was that she did.”

“She was murdered,” Imogen corrected. “The child cut from her womb.”

Jace sat down heavily on the garden wall, leaves brushing against his back. “So… Valentine isn’t my father,” he said, both surprised, and hopeful.

“No. It would appear not,” Imogen replied.

Jace let out a breath. “So… I would be your…”

“Grandson,” Imogen replied quietly, clearly unsure of what to do in the situation.

Jace looked up. “Am I still being sent to the Silent City?”

Imogen remained quiet for a long minute. “I… I will still need to question you. Although, perhaps by the Sword is a bit much.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Yes… well…” Imogen looked around. “I have other duties to attend. You… look exhausted. Get some rest. Do not leave the Institute.”

“I will-“ at her glare, he amended, “I mean, get rest. I won’t leave.”

“Good.” With one final, bewildered look, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room.

“I need to ensure she doesn’t cause anymore disturbances,” Maryse said. She turned toward the door, only to turn back and walk over to Jace, and kiss his temple. “Regardless of your surname, you are _my_ son.”

He surged up to hug Maryse tightly. “Thank you.”

The hug was followed by an affectionate clasp on the shoulder by Robert, and the two Lightwoods left the greenhouse.

“What just happened?” Jace muttered.

“A great many changes,” Jocelyn said softly. “We have never actually been introduced.”

“Right!” Clary said with a big grin. “Mom, this is Jace, and Jace, this is my mom. Just _my_ mom.”

Jace smirked, but it fell at the pained look on Jocelyn’s face. It was clear that she had thought, maybe just for a minute, that her ‘dead’ son had finally come back. Unsure of what to do, he stood and extended his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

At that, she smiled just a touch, and surpassed his handshake for a quick, but tight hug. She pulled away with a smile toward her daughter. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around, Jace. Do get some sleep, kids.” With that, she too left.

“Wow.” Clary said, as the three of them sat down, shoulder to shoulder, with Clary in the middle. She turned to Jace. “Have I mentioned how glad I’m am that you’re back, and you’re safe?”

“And I’m leaving,” Alec said standing, quickly grabbing his hoodie. Jace’s warm laughter followed him out.


End file.
